Doing What We Can
by Emmelie Cullen
Summary: Now that I'm older, I think I've figured it out. We're just doing what we can. - A human story set in New York City about six friends navigating life, love, and family. Rosalie& Emmett centric. Canon couples.
1. When I Was Younger

_Hey everybody! This is my first fanfic in a while and I just wrote it for fun! Please enjoy and review if you are so inclined! Thanks so much!_

* * *

When I Was Younger – Liz Lawrence

 _When I was younger  
I told my mother  
"I said, one day I'm gonna make you proud"_

 _Now that I'm older  
It's so much harder  
To say those words out loud_

 _You're growing taller  
A little smarter  
And one day you're gonna leave home  
Will you look like your mother's father  
When you are fully grown?_

 _When I was younger, I asked my father  
"Why are we so human?"  
Now that I'm older  
I think I figured it out  
We're just doing what we can_

* * *

 **Bella**

I gazed down at the positive, clear as day; there was no mistaking it.

It was positive.

I could feel my heart in my throat as I lifted up my plaid flannel shirt to look at my pale flat stomach. I turned to the side, my hands sliding over my skin.

There was something in there. Something growing.

The idea made my head pound. My entire life was changing.

I didn't know whether to smile or cry to be quite honest, but either way, I was attached.

I turned the test over in my hands, lost in thought.

I wonder if this is how my mom felt, pregnant with my older brother, her freshman year of college… unsure, conflicted over her own emotions, worried, nervous, anxious, over her head.

Everything I knew would change - the routine, the wine on Wednesday nights while I cooked spaghetti, the trivia with our friends at the bar on the corner once a month, the pizza runs at 2 a.m. and watching the sunrise on the rooftop of our Williamsburg apartment as he read to me, my head in his lap as I watched the Artist paint the sky for the new day.

My boyfriend Edward and I had been together for a couple months and we knew it was going to lead somewhere after he finished school at least. We just always thought we had plenty of time to think about things like this.

I had _just_ turned 30.

I had a decent job at a bookstore, though I'd love to be working on my own book full time, and Edward was in his third year at Columbia Law School. He had a stellar job lined up at this big law firm in the city because of his brother in law, so I guess the timing wasn't _terrible_.

But, we had just moved in together last week, so we hadn't exactly started talking about a life together like _this_.

I exhaled, taking slow and trudging steps out of the bathroom to see Edward seated on the edge of the bed in that ratty Columbia Law sweatshirt he always wore.

His knees were bouncing and his hands ran through his bronze hair, his eyes meeting mine in urgent questioning.

"Well, I'm pregnant." I tried to say as matter-of-factly as I could, but my voice was shaking.

I realized as I waited for his response just how nervous I was. I waited for what seemed like eternity before he smiled a soft smile.

"Bella, we'll make it work." Edward took my face in his hands, a fiery look in his eyes.

* * *

 **Alice**

"Alec, stop throwing things at your sister." I exhaled in utter exasperation as I sat my bag down on the kitchen table, my keys tumbling to the floor.

No sooner had I opened the door than I saw the beautiful mass chaos in my apartment living room.

It had been a long day at the office, but I'm glad I loved my job at Vogue and I'm glad I could balance it with my beautiful family. It was my first day back after the baby and I was a whirlwind of emotions. I missed my kids and I thought about them all day when I was away, but I thought about all the things I was missing at work when I wasn't there.

After my first child, I planned on taking the six weeks of maternity leave, but I came back in three. After the second, I took 10 days. And now, after a third, I was back within a week.

I knew I got maternity leave, but I didn't want to look like I wasn't committed to my job. September issue just came out and fashion mogul Robert Hale just bought an Italian leather goods brand and was rumored to launch a luxury handbag line soon.

I wanted to make sure I was on top of things.

I _loved_ my job. I _loved_ my family.

I wasn't exactly _prepared_ for motherhood, especially with how career-driven I was – but I refused to let it slow me down. Three kids later, and here I was as a senior fashion news writer for at 30.

I had to use my lunch break to go to the doctor today, and didn't get back from my appointment in time so I stayed a little late to catch up on some missed work and prove myself.

I hated having to stay away from my family at dinnertime especially when the kids were so young and my marriage so new, but my perfect husband stood in the kitchen making sure my dinner was still warm when I came in.

Jasper was a saint.

I kissed him happily.

"How was your first day back?" Jasper asked, bending to pick up my fallen keys.

He sat them in the catch all tray by the door as I took over stirring the pot on the stove.

Jasper's big amber eyes were compassionate and the crazy world stopped for a moment as I got lost in them.

He handed me a plate of sweet tea fried chicken, green beans, and seasoned okra and I inhaled with a smile. This was his 'special occasion' dinner.

It's a wonder I hadn't gained a thousand pounds being married to him. I did however, seem to always have a few extra pounds on my tiny frame in baby weight. I'd been pregnant half of our marriage already, but I wouldn't trade those cute little ones for the world.

Nonetheless, my stomach was rumbling and ready for Jasper's cooking.

Jasper had his own restaurant in Hell's Kitchen that was met with instant success and so I did love a good excuse for him to cook at home.

He was from Louisiana, and so once he started to hate his accounting job and get a little homesick, he quit his job and created a soul-food fusion type restaurant called Rising Sun that instantly became a favorite stop in the city.

It stressed me out a little, taking such a big chance like that, but I loved him and he was so much happier now.

"I'm a terrible mother for leaving them today." I sighed, taking the infant out of his arms, my heart feeling light and heavy at the same time.

"No, Alice, don't say that." He said intensely.

She began to cry at being moved and I immediately took it personally that she hated me.

My hormones were still going crazy – naturally.

My bottom lip started to tremble, and Jasper's calming hand stroked my cheek as I bounced the infant in my arms trying to soothe her.

It didn't work and she just cried louder.

This made Jane sad as she toddled over and Alec tugged on the bottom of my skirt for my attention.

I immediately started to cry with the same intensity as the child in my arms before Jasper took her from me, then wrapped his other arm around my shoulders.

"Alice, we'll make it work." He breathed before kissing my forehead.

* * *

 **Rosalie**

"I'm sorry I'm late, Rose." Emmett sat down next to me in front of Dr. Weber's empty desk, kissing my cheek.

He talked to me like I was going to shatter into a million pieces at any moment, and his eyes danced over my face to make sure I could handle the fact he'd been 7 minutes late.

I could. Most of the time.

I forced a smile and stopped wringing my hands so he could take one of them.

He adjusted the rings on my fingers that I'd been fiddling with so that they shone in the perfect place now.

My eyes focused on my wedding ring and that gorgeous Harry Winston diamond I loved so much. I watched it sparkle in the light from the window.

It'd be five years soon.

Most of them were happy.

We were in love. We were rich. We had everything we could ever want.

Almost.

"Are you going to get fired for leaving again?" I said, trying to start conversation in an awkward jolt.

I was half joking but it gave me something to divert my anxiety toward.

"No, they need me too much. I'm the best, remember?" He grinned that confident smile I love so much.

He wasn't just being overconfident though. He _really_ was the best prosecuting attorney in the state of New York, and maybe the country.

And even though I had a successful career of my own, _that's_ really what afforded me the best _doctors_ in the state of New York and maybe the country.

"I remember." I exhaled and the door opened, sending my stomach to my knees.

I sat up straighter, and Emmett stood to shake the doctor's hand with a friendly smile.

He was as charismatic as I was reserved and I was glad he was the one that handled everything and everyone. I had gotten quite tired of having the same conversations over and over and over and _over_ …

I couldn't even bear the thought of being polite anymore.

"Hi, how are you?" The doctor began with a stiff smile.

I didn't respond or even try to mask my impatience.

The way she began with small talk suggested a dark tone to what she held in that cream file folder.

"So, I got your test results and I've been looking over your file…" She started.

Emmett's hand returned to mine in a gesture that was habitual after those words had been spoken each and every time.

I felt the world was moving in slow motion.

"You're… young. And healthy and…" She began the lead-in I'd heard a million times and I was bored.

I didn't want to hear anymore, but she continued of course.

"There's still not conclusive evidence that tells us anything about why you aren't getting pregnant." She said the phrase I've heard a thousand times in a thousand different ways.

This was perhaps the most polite.

"Have you considered adoption?" Dr. Weber suggested kindly, pushing forward a couple pamphlets that I'd already memorized.

My bones felt hollow as I stood to my feet. Emmett stood immediately with me, even though I pulled my hand out of his.

He anticipated that I was going to turn away and he put his hand on my shoulder softly.

I shrugged him off as I slipped out of the door, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Rosalie..." He said in hopes of slowing me down as he pleasantly dismissed us from the doctor's office, thanking her and shaking her hand before following the click of my heels down the hall.

"Rose, baby, wait." He called softly, in that voice he used for talking to me when he thought I was going to snap.

I didn't say anything, just kept walking, my eyes straight ahead.

I was more bored than anything hearing the same mundane speech again and again.

"Rosalie." He said a little more sternly as he caught up with me, grabbing onto my elbow as he kept pace.

I slowed a little, but I still couldn't look at him.

"I'm bored." I responded to his concern with ambiguity, sighing and pouting my bottom lip.

"I know." He responded lamely, sliding his hand to my wrist, his fingers eventually finding their way to lace through mine.

I let him take my hand, but I didn't relax my tense muscles as we walked side by side down a stale, colorless hallway like we'd walked down so many times before.

I clenched my jaw knowing he was watching for a reaction on my face.

He reached out, wrapping both of his arms around me to stop me, hugging onto me.

I inhaled, closing my eyes as my cheek found his chest. Then, I had to stop myself.

I wiggled a little, but he still held onto me. I refused to melt into his embrace – afraid of what emotional response I might have if I ever let myself truly let go.

"I want to leave." I said through easily gritted teeth.

I struggled to get my arms free, but he kept arms around my waist as I turned, dropping my weight into his wrists and obviously fighting against him now.

"Rosalie, we'll make it work." Emmett whispered to me as he kissed my cheek, not acknowledging that I was always fighting against him.

I craned my neck away from him to deny his affections and he let me go now, following me wordlessly to our car out front.


	2. Downtown

_Thank you so much for your support!_

 _Please enjoy and review if you are so inclined! xoxo_

* * *

Downtown – Majical Cloudz

 _Nothing you say  
Will ever be wrong  
'Cause it just feels good being in your arms_

 _And I'm running with you  
As fast as I can  
Singing to myself I wanna hold your hand_

 _And we're going downtown_

 _'Cause we feel like running around  
Is it really this fun when you're on my mind  
Is it really this cool to be in your life_

* * *

 **Bella: The Day I Came to Dinner**

 _ **September**_

My stomach turned somersaults as Edward led me up to the second floor to Alice and Jasper's apartment. He squeezed my hand and looked over.

When his green eyes met mine, I felt a calmness wash over me.

"Everyone will love you." He kissed my forehead then knocked on the door.

"Coming!" A sing-songy voice came from inside and a moment later the door swung open to reveal a beaming pixie-girl. She must've been Alice.

Her short, choppy black hair accented her piercing green eyes, almond shaped and eternally smiling. Her cheeks were rosy and her smile was full of life.

She had on a navy blue polka-dotted button down with the sleeves pushed up and bright red high-waisted skirt that showed off her pale white legs. She was short, and tiny framed like a pixie and she absolutely exuded warmth.

"Bella! I've heard so many amazing things about you." Her grin widened and she reached out to hug me.

She didn't even know me, but she had the most authentic and loving embrace. I let out a sigh of relief. I felt comfortable and at home here.

"Welcome to our home, Bella." A man with dark blonde hair spoke with a thick Southern accent as he approached Alice's side with a toddler on his hip.

He was tall, just a little taller than Edward, with soft features and amber eyes. His frame was lithe and he wore an obscure indie band t-shirt and worn-in black converse.

He must be Jasper.

I chuckled as the toddler on his hip said an adorable, baby-talk hello then buried her pink face in his shoulder.

"Aw, she's beautiful." I complimented as Edward shut the door behind us.

I saw Edward smile, and I thought about when we found out if we were having a boy or a girl. I think he secretly wanted a girl, even though he wouldn't say.

"This is Jane." Jasper introduced her and she peered at me with those same green eyes as Alice's.

"Alec is our oldest." Jasper nodded toward a little boy about four playing in the floor of the living room with an X-Wing from Star Wars. "And if you'd believe it. We have another in the other room. Harper."

"Wow." I smiled awkwardly, not knowing how to respond.

"If you need any baby clothes, we're definitely your people." Jasper chuckled. "Alice has drawers and drawers of it."

"Who knows if it'll be the last one!" Alice winked in obvious jest but Jasper just shook his head seriously.

"This is _it_. Officially." Jasper gestured a gesture of finality.

"Sure..." Alice giggled, as Jasper kissed her on the cheek. "Now come on to the dining room. Rosalie and Emmett brought dinner."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry they were waiting." I tittered, getting nervous.

Edward had prepped me that his step-sister Rosalie was, in his words 'cold, vain, difficult, self-centered, and impossible to get to know.' He also said never to look directly in her eyes because I would turn to stone, like Medusa.

I remember laughing, but he took my face in his hands telling me he was serious.

I didn't live under a rock, so I knew she was a big deal in the fashion world and had like millions of followers on social media, but I didn't want to do any research or anything because I didn't want to awkwardly know something about her already that I wasn't supposed to know.

Edward took a deep inhale his jaw clenching and his hand reaching for mine. He was making me believe she was actually something to be afraid of.

"The F Train was delayed and…" I started.

"Oh, it's fine! We weren't waiting long." Alice shrugged it off, leading me around the corner into the dining room.

Emmett and Rosalie were leaned close and he was talking to her, his voice low. She was just nodding, keeping her eyes down.

Emmett held Alice and Jasper's newest baby girl with a bow on her head that was bigger than her face in his arms, and Rosalie just distantly had her arms crossed over her chest.

Something about the way he looked at her made me believe they were fighting.

I was immediately uncomfortable.

"Bella!" The man with unruly, raven black hair and dark brown eyes stood from the table as he noticed us, a million watt smile with childish dimples appearing on his face to decline any of the vexed state he was previously found in. "So good to finally meet you!"

"I'm happy you made it." He walked over to hug me and my head didn't even clear his shoulders. "You're tinier than Edward said."

"You must be Emmett." I felt my tense muscles relax as I laughed, full-hearted.

He exuded the same warmth and welcome that Alice had, making me feel immediately more comfortable.

"The one and only." He grinned, the dimples on his cheeks making him appear rascally.

Alice took the sleeping infant out of Emmett's arms and Harper protested a little with an adorable cry that Alice worked to quickly soothe. She couldn't be more than a couple months old.

She was so little!

My heart could burst as I looked at her tiny nose.

Then, my eyes caught the girl on the other side of the room that was pretending to look down at her phone but was really watching her husband out of the corner of her eye. She was easily the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, her golden blonde hair cascading down her back in perfect curls.

Her rosy pink lips were in an intentional pout, the perfect ivory skin of her forehead crinkled at her furrowed brow as she scrolled her phone with big violet eyes. She had a face out of a silent movie.

Her body was beyond perfect, like what you'd wish for yourself when you looked at magazines eating low-fat yogurt and drinking diet coke in high school.

She looked exactly like you'd imagine a supermodel would in real life, wildly out of place walking amongst mere mortals. She wore a perfectly form fitted long sleeved black turtleneck tucked into black jeans so she looked extremely chic.

"It's getting cold." She spoke in a voice that sounded like the Golden Age of Hollywood, even though it was icy.

"Just like you." Edward jabbed with a dark smile.

The way they spoke to each other made me think this animosity was ongoing, and no one really started it. They just have an awful, seemingly irreparable tension between them.

"Heeeeey let's play nice today," Emmett punched Edward in the shoulder lightly, but something in his eyes told me he wasn't messing around. "It's a special occasion."

Rosalie didn't look up. Her expression was blank, and her face like porcelain. My stomach dropped to my knees.

I had a feeling she hated me for some reason.

"Hey, I'm Bella." I spoke uneasily and twisted my fingers together as I approached the other side of the table.

Emmett put his hand on Rosalie's shoulder encouragingly.

Rosalie looked up and I knew what Edward meant about not looking into her eyes. Her gaze was intensely intimidating and I froze.

There was no way eyes could be that big and purplish blue. I was lost.

"Rosalie." She spoke her name swiftly in her velvety angel's voice, and her eyes lowered behind a curtain of black lashes.

Emmett sat back by Rosalie, kissing her on the cheek as if she was being rewarded for her positive behavior.

"It's a pleasure." She seemed encouraged to say, but didn't look back at me.

She looked a lot younger than I remember Edward telling me. She looked like a pouting child as Emmett tried to coerce her pleasantness.

"Today's going to be a perfect welcome party for Bella!" Alice said, forcing the cheer in her voice as she sat down seeming to watch Rosalie like she was watching a child that had a pattern of bad behavior and was waiting for her to act out again. "And we finally got a microwave if it's cold. Jasper's parents just bought us one!"

I watched Rosalie dig in her purse and produce a bottle of different colored pills and a bottle of water.

"I like that purse." I said my voice sounding breathy as I tried to start conversation.

"Of course you do, it's a limited edition Birkin bag." Alice giggled harmlessly, but I flushed red.

I knew that name and felt stupid for not recognizing it.

I personally thought that buying a bag that costs six figures was absolutely outrageous and ostentatious, but I'd never seen one in real life before.

"Yeah…" Rosalie said with narrow eyes like I'd made a fool of myself as she popped a handful of pills in her mouth.

I wondered briefly, and was reminded of my older brother the last few years of his life – all those pills from all those doctors…

"Why don't you tell her the story of how you got it, Rose?" Emmett suggested, brushing Rosalie's hair from her face lovingly.

There was something about the way they related to each other that made my stomach hurt and reminded me of my brother even more.

I could already tell that he overprotected her, pouring his attention and affection on her unconditionally like you do with someone that's really sick and you'd feel guilty for doing anything else. It's like he forgave her for every little thing instantly because he felt sorry for her…

But, he also tried to stay positive and act like nothing's wrong because he didn't want to scare her…

Edward noticed I was uncomfortable and kissed my fingers, drawing me from my thoughts.

"Jane Birkin gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday." Rosalie said, still detached.

"What?! I haven't heard this story!" Alice squealed. "Can I hold it while you tell me?"

Alice reached her free hand out hopefully and Rosalie passed her the bag like she was passing the salt.

"Who What Wear ran a feature that said I looked like Jane Birkin and she saw it and invited me to lunch." Rosalie said, monotone, staring at Alice holding the bag in one hand and a newborn baby in the other.

"She was a brunette with bangs for about a month for… who was it?" Emmett started.

"Dolce and Gabbana." Rosalie mumbled.

"It was a _dark_ time." Emmett said, dimples showing.

She half-smiled, shifting in her seat.

"Very punny." I noted with a chuckle.

Rosalie's half-smile disappeared, and she held out her hand for a purse that costs more than an upper middle-class home.

She actually hated me…

Why?

"That's right! I remember that campaign." Alice smiled. "Fall in Bloom?"

Alice admired the bag with an open mouth for another moment, and then returned it to Rosalie's waiting hands.

"That's so cool." I grinned, genuinely impressed with her.

"Mhm." Rosalie took it, hanging it on the back of her chair, her expression icy.

"What do we have tonight?" Jasper sat down, passing plates around the table.

"Rôtisserie Georgette." Emmett attempted a French accent.

Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"What? Not any better?" He teased.

I noticed he already had an accent of his own that he hid except for a few moments here and there.

"I do love it when you speak French." He said, smiling like we weren't supposed to hear.

She sighed, still detached as he doted over her.

"Well, how's your Spanish, Rosalie?" Edward seemed to be provoking her, but it didn't seem intentional.

It seemed second nature.

I didn't like it.

Her eyes burned into Edward's ferociously.

"It's beautiful." Emmett tilted her chin up and toward him, but she turned her cheek to dodge his kiss.

She hissed at him under her breath, totally unintelligible for the others around her, but he narrowed his eyes at her just slightly before they returned to perfect appearances.

"I love it when it's your turn for dinner." Alice grinned to change the subject, clasping her hands together happily at her chin before sitting down between Rosalie and Jasper.

"You can say that again," Jasper exhaled, opening one of the to-go boxes. "That's the whole reason we're friends with you, you know. It's not often you can find a French girl and a Cuban that couple up. Such good food!"

Emmett laughed. That was the accent.

This all looked delicious.

"Rosalie's only half French." Edward teased, cracking open a beer. "And it's not like they even cook for themselves. They pay someone to do it."

Rosalie's eyes flashed with displeasure.

"It's just the impeccable taste we foreigners or well in Rose's case… _half_ -foreigners have." Emmett winked. "And this is a special occasion so we had to pull out all the stops."

"To Bella!" Emmett produced a bottle of Maker's Mark and poured a generous glass even though by the looks of it, he'd already been drinking.

Rosalie's brow furrowed and she looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well thank you, you guys." I grinned as Emmett handed me some silverware.

"Just holler what you want." Jasper instructed, and things started to get passed family style.

"So tell us a little bit about you, Bella." Emmett started, taking a long drink.

"Everyone's welcome by the way," He tilted the bottle. "Except you, obviously."

I laughed as I put some vegetables on my plate.

Jane began to cry from the jumper in the living room that Jasper had put her in earlier. Alice had just finished fixing her plate and had an infant in her arms, so she sighed as she pushed herself away from the table.

"Do you want to go get her, Rose?" Emmett seemed to be encouraging her.

She shook her head like an embarrassed toddler, looking away. Her face was slightly red, and she looked at Emmett like he'd betrayed her.

"I'll grab her!" Alice seemed to run interference for everyone in the room.

My head was already spinning trying to keep up with the dynamics of the group.

"Now seriously, Bella who are you?" Emmett returned to the conversation, with a sparkle in his eye.

"Um… Well, I… I'm originally from Phoenix and I moved to the city for college almost 12 years ago now." I started, passing the plate of baguettes.

I couldn't believe I just said 12 years ago…

"What did you study?" Jasper asked taking a piece of bread and reaching out for Harper to take her off Alice's hands.

"Journalism." I nodded as I offered the plate to Rosalie.

She narrowed her eyes and so I just sat the plate down as quickly as I could.

"That was my degree!" Alice said as she sat down with Jane in her lap.

"I got you," Jasper mumbled fixing Alice a plate of French food.

"Edward said you were a fashion writer." I said, directing toward her.

"Yes! I've been on Vogue staff for six years!" Alice smiled, bouncing Jane on her knee. "I started out as an intern, grabbing coffee and a year later I'm writing for the website."

Her eyes darted to where Rosalie was just picking at her food.

How stereotypical.

Emmett took her fork from her hand, stabbed a piece of chicken almost too strongly and handed it right back to her.

They exchanged a heated glance, but the hellishness was short-lived.

"So what are you up to now, Bella?" Emmett grinned, back to perfect appearances and taking a long drink from his glass.

There it was.

"I um… I work at Judged by The Cover, the bookstore…" I started.

Emmett snorted and he watched Rosalie take a tiny bite on her fork.

I noticed most everyone was watching her in a way that suggested something could change at any second. It kept me on edge.

"That's really the name of it?" He continued to laugh.

I nodded, smiling, but kept my eyes down.

"That's how we met actually," Edward squeezed my hand. "I saw the name of the bookstore while I was taking a walk and I thought it was disgustingly punny, so I went in. That's when I saw her."

Looking into his eyes, those deep emeralds absolutely centered me.

"How adorable is that?" Emmett took another long drink.

Rosalie sat her fork down defiantly and with a little clang on the edge of her plate. Without missing a beat, Emmett picked up her fork again, put more food on it forcefully and stared at her until she picked it up to her mouth.

"Tell us how you met. _Details_!" Alice squealed, seeming un-phased by the behavior of Rosalie and Emmett as if her childish pouting and his alert care of her was all boring and normal.

"Well… I…" I cleared my throat, blushing.

"I was staring at her because I thought she was beautiful and before I knew it, she was asking me if I needed any help finding something…" Edward grinned, taking my hand, noticing my discomfort.

"And, like a bumbling idiot, I picked up the nearest book to me saying I misplaced my copy." He smirked.

I giggled under my breath, remembering the story with ease and fondness.

"It was _Perv: The Sexual Deviant in All of Us_." I found his eyes, relaxing as I chuckled.

It was as if I'd told the funniest joke in the world. The whole room was laughing…. Except Rosalie.

She still remained stone. I tried not to imagine that everyone was just trying to be polite and she just wasn't going to be fooled by me.

Was she just being over protective of her brother?

I didn't understand her fixation.

"She was impressed with your taste in literature at least." Emmett tried to say in between laughs, genuinely and authentically invested and amused by the story.

"I guess that's what did it for me." I chuckled as Edward put his arm around me.

"That's awful and adorable." Alice squealed and I shrugged.

"Now, let's keep going. 20 questions with Bella." Emmett grinned.

Rosalie sat her fork down again, this time quietly.

"What were your hopes and dreams as a little girl growing up in Phoenix?" Emmett pressed - his voice a little edgy as he took Rosalie's fork a third time and repeated the same ritual.

Edward shot him a cautionary look, but Emmett ignored it.

He was the type that seemed to want to genuinely _know_ everyone around him, and allow everyone to know him.

His transparency was only highlighted by Rosalie's reticence.

"Oh wow." I laughed, a blush coming to my cheeks. "That's a loaded question that came out of left field. "

"How so?" He asked, in what seemed like innocence and naivety.

"Does anyone ever do what they dreamed when they were a kid?"

"Yes?" Emmett raised an eyebrow.

Of course he was doing what he wanted to do.

"Now it's just depressing to think about." I snorted, picking at some potatoes.

"I don't think it's depressing." Emmett furrowed his brow. "I think it reminds you who you are when you think about what you used to dream about."

"I always wanted to be a writer." I shrugged.

"And now, you're working on a book." Edward said, cutting up some chicken.

"See? Not depressing at all." Emmett raised his glass in celebration.

"Is that right?" Jasper grinned enthusiastically. "What do you write?"

"I uh… I'm writing something about the Civil War right now."

"A real Margaret Mitchell." Emmett said in between bites.

"Impressive American culture reference, Scarface." Jasper teased.

Rosalie obviously didn't like them joking about this because she shot Jasper a look and I saw Alice pinch Jasper's arm.

"Oh shut up, Jasper!" Emmett narrowed his eyes playfully, obviously not offended and I noticed their brotherly banter was deeply-rooted. "I've been an American for 23 years this past August."

He saluted with a grin. He was clearly incredibly proud of this.

"That's longer than Rosalie's been an American." Edward said smugly.

Rosalie looked at him with a look I'd swear would turn anyone else to stone, but he wasn't phased.

"I thought you were born here!" Alice noticed and Rosalie's jaw clenched.

Rosalie narrowed her eyes.

"She was." Emmett said plainly, obviously not one to be cryptic or secretive, looking at Edward in a way I didn't understand.

He seemed to face everything head-on, and Rosalie obviously did not. A faint red tinted her cheeks.

"Holy God." Jasper exhaled. "I always forget you're a baby. Your birthday's coming up too. 23 this year?"

Obviously this was a very delicate subject based on Rosalie's hostile expression, Edward's smug smile, Alice's tense shoulders, and Emmett's lowered eyes.

"Jasper!" Alice hissed under her breath.

I choked on my drink and disguised it as a cough unsuccessfully.

"Wooo, I remember being 22. I was just moving from The Big Easy." Jasper reminisced trying to remove the foot from his mouth as he transitioned subjects it seemed.

"I've been to New Orleans once. My mom lived there." I began, trying to divert the subject from Rosalie's age.

"No way, what part?!" Jasper grinned, obviously distracted.

Maybe she'd feel thankful to me.

I noticed Rosalie and Emmett talking low, seeming to fight, but she maintained a cool expression and he was almost smiling.

"Ummmm…. I have no idea?" I said honestly. "She moved to Florida after just a couple months."

"Oh honey, what a shame… Why anyone would leave New Orleans is beyond me." Jasper shook his head, teasing.

"Same reason I'm assuming you left. Love?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well… It's the reason I stayed." Jasper beamed a sparkling smile over to Alice and I saw the love between them was absolutely electric. "Alice and I met when I was doing an internship up here my last semester of college. The day after graduation, I moved back up here."

Jasper grinned at Alice and he kissed her sweetly.

"How did you two meet?" I asked turning to Rosalie, trying to make conversation.

"Don't." Edward whispered and grabbed my hand like that was a no-go and Rosalie shot me a look that suggested I should burn in hell.

Alice and Jasper stared at me open-mouthed and I realized with horror that this was apparently taboo. I needed a crash-course on this group of people before I had dinner with them.

I was in over my head.

"You _really_ don't know?" Emmett narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, obviously pleasantly surprised I didn't.

I wanted to know why, but I couldn't brave the scorching hellfire Rosalie was staring at me to find out.

I shook my head fervently and Emmett took a drink. Edward looked away.

"Sorry. No, I…" I cleared my throat, barely escaping Rosalie's glare.

"Well…" Emmett began, clearing his throat, speechless in reaction to my ignorance and it absolutely puzzled me. "We've never actually had to tell anyone."

"Emmett..." Rosalie remained cool, but there was a slight edge in her voice.

"Oh, we're not getting in to that tonight. I don't have enough whiskey for _that_ story." Emmett chuckled, but there was darkness in his eyes.

I looked at Edward, trying not to be too obvious. He just made a face.

Rosalie was luckily distracted.

"You should stop." She whispered to Emmett.

"Why don't you let me pour you a drink, angel?" Emmett laughed, finishing his drink and pouring another in spite of Rosalie's previous suggestion. "You're so much fun when you drink."

She shot him a look, saying something inaudibly to him.

"We probably shouldn't have gotten drunk at our wedding…" Alice chuckled to transition into another conversation, holding Jane in one arm and trying to eat with the other.

"Yeah, we definitely shouldn't have had an open bar. Because… _that_ happened." Jasper nodded to Alec and they both tried to manage Jane and Harper and eat at the same time.

"I'll hold her." Rosalie said under her breath.

Alice paused like this was very rare, waiting for Rosalie to change her mind.

"If… If you want." Rosalie reached out for Jane tentatively.

She looked wildly out of place holding a baby. Jane even seemed to sense it and started squirming as soon as Rosalie held on to her.

It only took a moment and Rosalie handed Jane to Emmett with an exasperated sigh of resignation.

Jane started to whine, reaching her arms out to Alice and getting passed around fast.

I saw the hurt on Rosalie's face that seemed to take Jane's reluctance intensely personally.

"Yep. First night of our honeymoon." Alice sighed shoveling some food in her mouth and picking Jane up again.

"Independence Day." Edward laughed, cracking open a beer.

I blushed, reaching for one of the Coca-Colas in the center of the table.

"You shouldn't drink that." Rosalie's voice was like molten lava and her eyes were flaming.

* * *

 _*** Edit May 9: Initially on first update (May 8), I put "Valentine's Day" in Edward's final dialogue, but this didn't fit in the timeline, so it is Independence Day! Thanks so much!_


	3. Day Old Hate

_Thank you so much for your support!_

 _Please enjoy and review if you are so inclined! xoxo_

* * *

 _Day Old Hate – City and Colour_

 _Now you still speak of day old hate  
Though your whole world has gone up into flames  
And isn't it great to find that you're really worth nothing  
And how safe it is to feel safe._

 _So drown me and if you can  
Or we could just have conversation.  
And I fall, I fall, I fall down  
But I found you, before I drift away_

 _The things we do just to stay alive_

* * *

 _Bella: Throwing Things at the Dinner Table_

 _September_

"I… I don't drink much," I furrowed my brow and looked away.

"Caffeine is bad for the baby," Her voice was velvety and her eyes hadn't faltered as she stared. "Especially in the first trimester."

"Rosalie, lighten up." Emmett mumbled, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry…" She kept staring at me and I felt a blush rush to my cheeks as I put the soda down.

"Well, if you're as responsible with your prenatal care as you are with contraception-" Rosalie articulated each word to let me know she'd chosen them carefully, and her chin was down, looking up at me with her deep violet eyes.

She wanted me to know she meant every word. This was an intentional attack.

"Rosalie, baby, stop." Emmett begged as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder trying to pull her toward him to calm her down.

"You're being reckless." She was seething.

"What did I do to you?" My voice shook as I went straight for the real question.

"It's not like you're the picture of responsibility." Her eyes were locked into mine with iron tethers, ignoring my question. "I shouldn't have expected much, but you're killing your child."

My heart dropped in my chest and I felt her glare burning holes in my skin.

"Rosalie!" Emmett's voice rose, and with a frantic desperation he took her face in his other hand turning her gaze toward him. "Stop. Talking."

He held her chin in his hand, almost harshly, his eyes distressed as he looked over her face. Her breath caught in her chest and she wriggled against his grip on her.

Emmett dropped his hand, brushing her cheek with his fingers gently like he was guilty for scolding a child that didn't know any better.

She was looking away, sulking.

My heart was beating out of my chest and I felt tears start to form in my eyes.

Edward noticed and snapped.

"Will you at least _pretend_ you have a heart?" Edward growled.

"Excuse me?" Rosalie turned, fire in her eyes.

"Edward," I grabbed onto his arm trying to stop him.

My heart was pounding. I didn't want to start anything.

"You've got to be soulless to do all the stuff you do, Rosalie " Edward went on. "You're impossible, but out of all the stunts you've pulled…"

"Edward," Alice whispered, her voice shaking. "Forget about it. She's just…"

"No," Edward put his fork down on the table intentionally, his gaze still on Rosalie intensely. "Everyone lets you get away with murder, but I'm done."

Rosalie seethed.

"You are a spoiled _brat_ and you need to grow up and stop being so selfish." He said before she could respond with the intent to finish her off.

" _Don't_ talk to her like that." Emmett's eyes flashed with something predatory, something viscous.

"She can't just act however she wants and have you justify it for her." Edward wasn't backing down. "She's become a monster and you know it."

Rosalie's bottom lip trembled.

"Watch it." Emmett seemed to threaten.

Jane started to cry and Rosalie pushed her chair away from the table.

Emmett glared at Edward for a fleeting moment before turning to Rosalie.

"Rosalie…" Emmett reached out for her but she shook his hand off her shoulder.

She stormed out of the room, cold and icy, but I noticed her eyes were glistening and vulnerable.

"Edward…" I scolded under my breath, hating that everything was awkward now.

"I've got her." Alice whispered, getting up from the table to follow Rosalie, placing Jane in Edward's arms before she followed Rosalie out of the room.

As Edward got Jane to stop crying, it was uncomfortably silent for a long while as we ate dinner; then after a long drink of whiskey, Emmett spoke up.

"Bella, I'm _so_ sorry." Emmett said to me, pouring another glass. "I know she's hard to swallow."

Edward put his hand on my knee, and I couldn't help but be distracted by how attractive he looked holding a baby.

But, my heart was still on the floor and I looked back to Emmett.

"I… It's okay." I cleared my throat.

But, it wasn't. I felt like I threw off the entire vibe of this group just by being here. I felt like I'd shaken everything up and it felt like Rosalie had something personal toward me.

I felt like I wasn't supposed to be here.

I felt like she _knew_ I wasn't supposed to be here.

"She's not usually this intense, just a regular _almost_ human level of intense." Emmett smiled lightly and tried to dismiss Rosalie's behavior. "It's… just one of those days."

"Oh, that's comforting." My voice was dry, and Emmett just laughed.

His laugh was full and authentic.

I liked him.

He and Rosalie were two sides of the same coin, living proof that opposites attract.

I wondered what brought them together in the first place that was so taboo, besides the obvious that beautiful people date beautiful people.

"You shouldn't have talked to her that way, Edward." Emmett's voice commanded a room, and he spoke confidently.

"Emmett, she's becoming absolutely unreasonable." Edward protested, rolling his eyes exasperatedly but trying to talk softly with Jane in his lap. "You have to do something. You _have_ to."

"She's just…" Emmett started, seeming unsure how to finish.

"You can't make excuses for her the _rest_ of her life." Edward said venomously, knowing where he was trying to go with it.

"You _know_ what she's been through and why she acts the way she does." Emmett challenged, something in his voice full of pain and harshness.

"This _has_ to stop." Jasper spoke bitterly. "This was supposed to be a good night."

"Bella, we're _all_ incredibly sorry." Jasper's eyes were serious and genuine. "Edward, you know you're being insensitive. Tone it down."

Jasper seemed to be an incredibly successful peacemaker with his diplomatic, calming, and rational personality.

Edward let out a shaky exhale, looking down at his plate.

Emmett clenched his jaw, taking another long drink.

"I know Rose is happy for you; it's… It's just going to take some time." Emmett spoke quickly and cryptically.

Edward nodded, seeming to accept the offer but wasn't satisfied.

I was confused, and overwhelmed.

"But, Rosalie's gotten worse and you know it." Edward said, treading lightly.

Emmett's eyes flashed with something unreadable.

"She's…" Emmett started protectively.

"She just wants a baby…" Jasper answered, justifying.

Edward didn't seem to like this and his eyes got cold in a way that made me have to look away.

Emmett didn't say anything for a long moment; he just finished another drink.

All four of us had just made a joke of how easy it was to get pregnant, drunk on a honeymoon or cold medicine messing with my birth control at a party on the Fourth of July.

I understood immediately.

"I'm really sorry." I said in a whisper.

"Bella, you have nothing to apologize for." Emmett said with warm eyes.

"I know this must be…" I trailed off.

"No, don't say that. It's not like we want the rest of the world to stop having babies." Emmett laughed, dismissing. "We would've stopped being friends with Alice and Jasper ages ago."

Jasper laughed without humor.

"Well…" Jasper didn't seem to know what to say. "It'll happen."

He settled on this phrase and Edward made a sour face.

"I just don't know what else we can do." Emmett remained removed, but I could tell he was upset. "You know how we went to New Orleans last week? We went to see a witch. An actual _witch_ to hex us into having a baby _."_

He was spilling his guts. He was very drunk, and the bottle that was full at the beginning of dinner was surprisingly low now.

I felt uncomfortable for a moment, but there was something about the trusting way he spoke in front of me, a stranger, that made me feel like I _wanted_ him to keep opening up to me. It made me feel… included and respected, like this was permanent.

"I mean, we're still trying the good old fashioned way. Beeeeelieve me." Emmett sighed exasperatedly, taking another drink. "But, 14-year-old me would have never believed I'd absolutely _dread_ having scheduled sex with a supermodel."

I looked to Edward through the corner of my eye and he chuckled politely, obviously uncomfortable.

Emmett used humor to deal with difficult emotion. You didn't have to be a psychology expert to see that.

Edward covered Jane's ears, shooting a look at Emmett who just belly-laughed.

"She doesn't know what it means." Emmett diverted with a chuckle and made a face at Jane whose big blue eyes were focused on him. "Do you, Janie?"

She squealed with laughter.

I saw in his face just how much he wanted a baby. Jane giggled and reached her little arms out, leaning toward Emmett.

He beamed, dimples on his cheek as he took her from Edward kissing her chubby cheeks.

My heart ached and I had to look away.

"Can we have one of yours?" Emmett joked. "You have plenty to go around."

Jasper just laughed and I followed his gaze to the living room to watch Alec coloring in the floor, and watching a cartoon on the television.

"Then you'll have to give up that penthouse over Central Park." Jasper teased lightheartedly.

"I'd do it in a heartbeat." Emmett said under his breath, bouncing Jane on his knee, his eyes locked on her in desperate admiration.

He spoke some soft Spanish to her, and though I didn't understand it all I caught the word beautiful.

"So Bella, is it a boy or is it a pretty little girl?" Emmett smiled, his eyes glassed over as he revealed his own preference.

"We umm…. We find out next week." I said, looking to Edward not really feeling like talking.

"So exciting." Emmett's voice was different and low.

Jane ducked her head to lay on his chest, snuggling up to him.

"See? I would be an amazing parent, right?" Emmett snickered, taking a long sip of whiskey.

No one knew what to say.

"Really, God, I'm so sorry about Rose, Bella." Emmett furrowed his brow, turning up the bottle. "Please let us make it up to you."

"It's okay, really." I tried to smile as I watched him stumble as he stood with a practically empty bottle in one arm and Jane in the other.

Jasper lunged to stand, but Emmett didn't seem to notice Jasper was already reaching for Jane protectively.

"It's not okay." Emmett put the bottle back down on the table. "You're family now."

I paused, my heart pulsing in my chest.

"Th-thank you for saying that." I sat back, knowing he was drunk but it still meant the world to hear him say that.

It had been a long time since I'd had that. It'd been a long time since I was in a family.

Edward kissed my cheek and rubbed my thigh tenderly.

"Rosalie hates when you drink." Jasper said like he was trying to remind him as he took Jane back, defensively.

He had a baby in each arm.

Emmett rolled his eyes and groaned.

"This is just… _not_ the day." Emmett released her with a sigh. "Let me drown my sorrows."

"Emmett, you can't do that _every_ day." Edward started, his tone almost condescending.

"Okay, then, Edward…" Emmett started, his eyes darkening as he pointed at him, picking up the bottle again. "I'm not done with you."

"Yes you are." Jasper insisted.

"How would you have her act, Edward?" Emmett turned the bottle up, ignoring Jasper's request for peace.

He was _incredibly_ drunk, and he was hurting.

"Emmett…" Edward rolled his eyes.

"No. Tell me, Edward." Emmett closed his eyes and his voice was intense though slurred. "What's the _appropriate_ timeline for grief? Since you know everything. Since you know exactly how my wife should act after what she went through. Since you know exactly how _I_ should respond to her."

Edward opened his mouth, but nothing came out and Emmett didn't wait for his answer.

"It was a year ago _to-day_ , Edward. And you forgot, but _we_ didn't. We can't." Emmett was heated and not backing down. "I wouldn't ever wish any of this on you, but you _can't tell me_ if it was Bella you'd be immediately able to go back to normal and you wouldn't let her act out because you remember the look on her face. You weren't there. You don't know _anything_."

Edward stopped, his face turning white.

I studied his expression and saw only darkness.

"You two need to go home, Emmett." Jasper whispered.

Emmett clenched his jaw, his eyes dim. My heart was heavy and I felt terrible.

My head was spinning.

Emmett didn't say anything, just turned his back and walked to knock on Alice's bedroom door. Alice appeared at the door and Emmett disappeared inside.

"What?" I looked to Edward and he just shook his head.

"What's going on?" I pressed but Edward looked at me like I was pressing too hard.

"We'll talk later…" He mumbled and I noticed Edward looked _angry_.

"Now who wants dessert?" Alice returned to the room with a forced smile.

She seemed to be grasping and upset.

No one spoke up and all of our eyes went straight to the door where Emmett had Rosalie.

Her eyes were expressionless and he had his head ducked, talking to her, but she was catatonic at best, just nodding every so often.

The way he was taking care of her reminded me of my brother again and I felt sick. I had to look away.

Edward seemed to be seething, and his eyes began to look irrational as he fumed.

I was disturbed by the look on Edward's face as he boiled over, finally standing up from the table with a loud scrape of the chair on the floor.

"Do you not see what you've done to her?" Edward finally lashed out, his eyes on fire.

Emmett stood taller, his chin defiant.

"Rosalie, you were my little sister once and I know you…. and I _hate_ seeing you like this…"

Rosalie's brow furrowed, but she remained removed, her eyes glassy.

"The only reason she's doing this is for _you_. She didn't even want a baby until _you_ made her." Edward shoved Emmett.

He _shoved_ him!

Rosalie's jaw dropped as Emmett let her go, his head tilting to the side like he was shocked Edward would do such a thing.

Everyone was shocked.

Me probably more than anyone.

"Careful," Emmett warned, something ferocious in his eyes.

Alice and Jasper were wide-eyed and leaned back like they wanted to look away, but couldn't peel their eyes off.

" _You_ did this to her." Edward practically spat.

No sooner had Edward said those words than Emmett put him on the floor with a swift left hook.

* * *

 _Ouch! Thanks for your reviews and support! It means the world to me! Stay tuned for the next chapter where lots of questions will be answered._


	4. Lost It To Trying

_Hey everyone! I'm going on vacation for a week, so here's a two part chapter! I will still read reviews and smile on vacation so I appreciate each and every one! Thank you so much for your support!_

 _Please enjoy and review if you are so inclined! xoxo_

* * *

 _Lost It To Trying – Son Lux_

 _What will we do now?  
We've lost it to trying_

 _What can we say now?_  
 _Our mouths only lying_

 _Give in and get out_  
 _We rise in the dying_  
 _We…_

* * *

 _Emmett: The Day We Lost It_

 _September; Last Year_

"Your Honor, would the court entertain a request for a brief recess?" Carlisle stood from the bench.

We were undoubtedly winning this case, and so I didn't understand the panicked look in his eyes. We just had a little while before scheduled recess.

She granted it, and I furrowed my brow, walking back toward him.

"What are you doing? I've got this." I said under my breath as Irina Denali made a sour face in my direction, shuffling her papers.

"I know. We just need to take a recess." He said this with full command and I felt a little alarmed as I searched over his face.

As people began filing out of the room, Carlisle put his hand on my shoulder looking directly into my eyes in a distinctly familiar and fatherly way.

He had been somewhat of a father figure since he hired me, and it came naturally to him to take me under his wing, to guide me, and train me, and teach me everything he knew. He wanted me to take over for him one day. He didn't tell me why he chose me, but he told me that it wasn't because I was valedictorian.

I'd come into a leadership position at the DA's office very young, perhaps too young, but everyone else knew the real problem was not my youth – it was my naivety. I hated to admit how green I was, and I thought I could take on a guy that ran a sex slave ring as my first time to take lead on a case.

Everything was fine until I had to question a nine-year-old little girl on the witness stand. She was Cuban, with big, terrified brown eyes and was kidnapped from near the area I grew up in. As I talked to her and a third party translated for the jury, there was something in me that fixated on the fact that she could've been one of my childhood friend's kids…

She was so little, so terrified, and she was one of twenty-three girls all under 12 that were so unimaginably wronged. I did everything I could and the guy still walked on a technicality in the way the detectives got our best evidence.

Carlisle knew I'd taken it personally. I passed out in the office because I'd stayed up for 4 days straight trying to find anything else on this guy, typical of my tendency to try to fix everyone and everything. I found two unpaid parking tickets and odd financial behavior that I turned over to the police that ended up being witness bribery, but even that didn't get him the sentence he deserved.

My very first case sent me into a dark hole, and Carlisle pulled me out of it. He'd taken me to lunch, and talked to me about the place for empathy in the courtroom.

At first I thought he was lecturing me and I listened with a sour taste in my mouth and my eyes down at the table as I thought I was getting reprimanded, but that's when he put his hand on my shoulder and told me never to lose it.

That look in his eyes when he put his hand on my shoulder that day and told me that my ability to see the people behind the cases is what made me such a good attorney looked a whole lot like the way he was looking at me now.

Like he wanted to protect something in me, the something that would keep me from becoming cynical, jaded, and hopeless.

"Your phone… it was ringing again and again… from the same number, Anastasia Ivanov…" Carlisle said.

"That's the housekeeper." I felt like he wanted me to defend the fact that a woman with a Russian name was calling me, but something alarmed me that she'd called so many times.

"Paul finally answered your phone. He had a bad feeling. He apologized." Carlisle's expression grew grimmer.

"Why was she calling?" I asked, immediately worried about Rosalie.

Something in my gut just didn't feel right.

Then, Paul handed me my phone.

"You should call her…" Paul said.

"What did she say?" I asked, my voice coming out more hostile than I'd intended, but I didn't have time for this.

He looked at Carlisle and Carlisle shook his head.

"Why don't you go home?" Carlisle said, his voice terrifying me.

I was dumbfounded. We were in the middle of a trial.

It sent a shiver down my spine as I turned, but I immediately dialed Rosalie's phone to check on her.

"Thank God!" Anastasia answered Rosalie's phone, her voice desperate and terrified, then she started speaking fast Russian, breathing rapidly.

"What's going on?" I asked so quickly I doubt she understood me.

"Miss Rosalie… Rosalie, it's your Emmett. Will you talk to him?" Anastasia spoke away from the speaker her voice high-pitched and wavering like she was talking to a child.

My stomach was in my ears as I waited, climbing into the backseat of the car.

"Make it fast." I said to the driver, listening for anything Rosalie was saying.

"She's… She's not talking. I didn't know who to call or what to do and I…" Anastasia's voice had a sob in it, hysterical.

"What. Is. Happening?" I asked harshly.

"I… I don't know if you'd want to know this over the phone." Anastasia wailed.

That's when I heard Rosalie, a scream from my worst nightmares; she was in pain.

"Rose. Baby. What's wrong?" I said irrationally, panicking.

Anastasia was talking to her unintelligibly.

That's when I knew what was happening.

But, there was a part of my mind that denied it.

I was still seven minutes away.

My heartbeat was loud in my ears.

"Let me talk to her." I commanded.

"She… She won't hold the phone." Anastasia said, hyperventilating.

"Then put it on speaker!" I ordered, raising my voice.

"Okay." I heard Anastasia start to cry and I sighed.

"Rosalie, Rosalie, I'm on my way home to you. You're going to be okay." I said, my throat tight.

"I'm sorry." Rosalie's voice was small and hollow and it absolutely ripped my soul out. "I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry."

She repeated, choking on a sob and I felt sick.

I clenched my jaw, refusing to let myself fall to any of my own weakness that would keep me from taking care of her right now.

"Rose, baby…" I couldn't think straight and I was impatient to the point where my brain felt like it was going to explode.

"Em, I'm so sorry." She said in a breathy sigh, and I heard her whimper in pain.

"Stay on the phone with me, okay?" I said, treading lightly. "I'm going to be there soon."

"O-okay." She cried.

"Anastasia, call a doctor." I said evenly, but this upset Rosalie in ways I couldn't have fathomed.

"No, no, no!" Rosalie repeated over and over, breathing rapidly. "Don't! Please don't."

"Rose… Rose, hey listen to me." I tried to reason with her. "I'll see you in a couple minutes, but right now I need you to talk to me. Anastasia, do what I said."

"I'll get out here. Wait once you get to the front. We'll be out soon.." I said, throwing open the car door as he stopped, running the last few blocks with my heart in my throat trying to say anything I could think of to calm Rosalie down.

Of course, nothing would account for what she was going through right now.

She was alone…

She was _alone_ …

I finally made it to the front door, whizzing past the doorman and wishing the elevator faster and faster.

For the briefest of moments, I thought about taking the stairs, imagining I could take fifteen flights faster than this elevator could move. Or maybe I could scale the side of the building.

I just had to get to her.

I threw open the door, the house seeming emptier and lonelier than it ever had.

Anastasia appeared at the door, her eyes red and her skin pale.

"Where is she?" I gasped.

Anastasia just pointed down the hallway, covering her face and starting to sob.

"Leave us." I exhaled, trying to muster all the strength I had for what happened next.

I pushed through the bathroom door to see a scene from the deepest depths of my worst nightmares.

I was knocked breathless, in shock.

It was worse than anything I could have ever imagined.

"Em?" Rosalie cried in a hoarse voice, her voice shaking and full of panic, keeping me centered and focused on the fact that she needed me.

Rosalie's knees were pronated and unnatural as she sat with blood still running down her pale skin.

My eyes followed hers to the bright red on the white tile.

She was hyperventilating, her eyes wide, her mouth open in horror. She was frozen in pain, fear… heartbreak.

Rosalie reached out her red hands, covered in her blood.

"Make it stop." Rosalie's voice was soft and scaring me.

She had all the faith that I could stop her pain, and it broke my heart.

I couldn't help her.

Her eyes were pleading with me like I'd know how to fix anything. My throat burned and my heart was in my stomach.

I didn't know what to do.

I put my arms under her knees and behind her back, picking her up and holding her close as I stepped into the shower with our clothes on.

She screamed in pain before she laid her head on my chest, crying as I turned on the water.

"It hurts." She whimpered.

"I know." I sat down with her in the floor of the shower and brushed through her tangled wet hair.

"I'm sorry." She repeated.

She was still tense and panicked. I had to act calm.

"Rosalie, I'm going to take you to the car and we're going to see the doctor. Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?"

That's when she moved from the denial into something even scarier. She was hysterical, wailing and sobbing limitlessly.

She knew it was over.

Just twenty-four hours ago, my mom had her hands on Rosalie's stomach, singing lullabies happily in the living room to a baby the size of a spaghetti squash.

A million watt smile shone on Rosalie's glowing face as she felt kicks from a baby girl.

She'd never looked more beautiful.

'Thank God she's got Rosalie's nose,' My step-father Peter had teased as he saw the ultrasound photo.

Presently, I took a deep breath of my own, clearing my throat to avoid showing any emotion before I kissed Rosalie's temple and stepped out of the shower.

"Rosalie, I'm so sorry." I stroked her face as she hiccupped on a sob.

She just held out her arms and I bent to pick her up, one hand under her trembling legs as she wrapped around me, burying her face in my soaking wet shoulder as she cried.

My throat felt tight and my eyes burned as I locked the door behind us and started toward the elevator, both of us still dripping puddles down the floor.

I kissed her face often, feeling her tears stain my already soaked shirt as we traveled in silence and eventually made it to the hospital.

The stale light only made the blood look brighter and Rosalie's skin look paler. She hadn't let up crying and I felt her sobs shaking and vibrating through me like they were my own.

I stayed strong to take care of her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Rosalie was in a wheelchair, a silent and solemn nurse pushing her, and Rosalie's hand was in a death grip on mine.

Rosalie let out a roaring scream, her fingers tightening on mine as she twisted her head down to deal with the pain.

This was obviously not how either of us pictured this day.

Legally, this baby Rosalie was about to have would never be recognized as our child.

In the state of New York, she was two weeks too little to even be acknowledged to have ever existed.

It seemed unfair. It seemed cruel.

This felt so real. I wanted it to be just a bad dream, but it was real.

Rosalie's huge blue eyes looked up to me, and I could have broken into a thousand pieces as I watched her labored, panicked breathing wrack through her body.

"I w-want my mom," She said with unfathomable desperation. "Call my m-mom."

* * *

 _All Through the Night – Sleeping at Last_

 _We have no past, we won't reach back  
Keep with me forward all through the night,  
And once we start, the meter clicks,  
it goes running all through the night._

Until it ends there is no end, keep with me forward all through the night and once we start, the meter clicks, and goes running all through the night.

* * *

 _Emmett: This Plaza Ain't Big Enough for the Four of Us_

 _A month later; October, Last Year_

"My daughter knows how I feel about tears. They're uselessly dramatic and she won't feel better if she gives in." Camille spoke, tipping up her near-empty champagne glass and her sharp nose.

Rosalie's mother and her wife Diane had only been here from France for three days, but I was already at my wit's end.

I didn't get along with Camille one bit.

The butler kept his eyes down as he pulled another bottle of champagne out of the ice on the cart that had barely touched breakfast foods on it.

This young guy had innocently looked at Rosalie one good time that first day we were here, and I didn't have to even say a word to make him never look her way again.

The thing is… He hadn't looked at her with brutish lust or even appreciation of her beauty. That, I despised – but I could stomach it.

He had looked at her with deep and boundless _pity_.

I couldn't handle that.

I narrowed my eyes as Camille held out her glass for more champagne.

It was 9 in the morning, but I had whiskey in my coffee so I couldn't judge her.

Rosalie's stepmother, Diane was watching me with big green eyes over the book she was pretending to read. She curled up further on the couch as she saw that I'd noticed, turning the page for the first time in a while.

She knew it was only a matter of time before I exploded, even if she didn't speak much English.

Camille was the clueless one.

I'd rented The Royal Suite at The Plaza indefinitely as I had Rosalie's and my things moved out of our apartment. There was no way Rosalie and I would be going back to live in an apartment where we'd just decorated a baby's room that would never be lived in.

It had only been three days since Camille and Diane had gotten here, but almost a month since that hell of a night.

When Rosalie finally fell asleep from exhaustion, I called Camille; unable to hide the desperation in my voice, I told her Rosalie needed her and had asked for her.

Camille said she had a trip planned to Santorini with Diane for their anniversary and wouldn't be able to make it until later.

She had huffed, like going to her daughter during the greatest tragedy of her life was a chore and though this would be the first time I'd ever meet her, I already knew I didn't like her.

I couldn't imagine how cold someone would have to be to hear something like that and be able to sit on a beach without a care in the world.

Rosalie sat catatonic in front of me as I brushed her wet, blonde hair. I'd convinced her to shower this morning, but she still wouldn't do anything for herself - or _couldn't_ \- and I almost lost it while I washed her hair for her today.

Rosalie hadn't spoken since we'd been to the hospital that night. She hadn't seemed to even blink. She wouldn't do anything without being lead to do it like a marionette. I fed her, dressed her, carried her, bathed her, all of it.

We'd seen a few doctors, but not even they could get her to speak or respond to the world around her. They said she was most likely just experiencing some exaggerated symptoms of catatonic depression that was trauma induced and that it may pass, and if it doesn't - they could find some pills.

I hadn't left her side for a second, piling every vacation day and sick day I had from work. I fell asleep after her and woke up before her.

I didn't want her to ever be alone again.

I think Rosalie had died that day too, and I wasn't ready to lose her like I did, so I couldn't let her go.

I kissed the top of her head as I continued to brush through her hair.

Her eyes stayed straight ahead and glassily unemotional just like every other day of the past month.

My phone rang, but I silenced it. I was supposed to get some work done from home today, and while Carlisle and the rest of the firm were understanding of me being home to take care of Rosalie for the past month, they weren't exactly happy I'd left them high and dry with such a high-profile client and in the middle of such a big case.

They'd begun to put some pressure on me, but I couldn't find it in me to stress about that as Rosalie was sitting in front of me like she was.

"And you would hate to get so splotchy and red faced, wouldn't you ma chérie?" She stood silkily, stroking Rosalie's chin with the tips of her fingers.

I clenched my jaw and I felt my knuckles turn white around the hairbrush as I gripped it.

Rosalie didn't move a muscle.

"She's. _Grieving_." I half-hissed, only _half_ -worried Rosalie's mother hated me after meeting me for the first time. "She can cry whenever she wants."

I kind of hated her right back.

Camille just nodded, removed.

I knew Rosalie was sitting right in front of me, but I'd gotten used to talking like she wasn't in the room because she was absolutely _unresponsive_.

As my parents sobbed over her and the loss, Rosalie sat there stone still as their hands gripped on her and their tears stained her clothes.

When I told her father what happened, he bought her a beautiful padparadscha sapphire pendant valued in the upper 2 millions that she'd usually have obsessed over. Rosalie didn't even look at it as he clasped it around her neck, eventually breaking down to hug her and cry on her shoulder.

I knew I had to hold it together for her and for everyone else, and I did so masterfully until one night last week right before Camille got here.

Rosalie had lain in bed facing me, and stared right through me without really seeing or acknowledging me. It was like she was blinded and alone in her thoughts.

I didn't want her to feel isolated so I reached out for her hand in the dark but she recoiled from me. This was the first active movement she'd made since that day, and she'd used it to recoil from me...

I remember that same night, I'd gotten up and locked myself in the bathroom after she fell asleep, turning on the shower so I could cry and Rosalie wouldn't notice.

There was only so much I could take, but I wanted to make sure Rosalie could rely on me and lean on me so I was forced to keep it together in front of her.

She had been catatonic, apathetic, and iced over as each baby gift was sent back, each person asked her how she was doing, and as I moved her out of the home I'd carried her over the doorstep as a new married couple.

I'd had to talk to her publicist to make sure no photos of her ever saw the light of day from this entire period of her life. Becca understood and pulled strings at the highest of levels so no one in the press would ever even breathe a word about any of this. If people asked questions, it was a strictly 'no comment' situation.

It also didn't hurt that I had agreed to whatever financial stipulations they presented.

I wondered if Rosalie would ever come back. I wondered if this is who she was now, silent, glassy, and distant.

Did this really break her?

Was her hardwiring officially fried?

Is this the point of no return?

I just thought, maybe she could start healing if she _felt_ something. Right now, she was just terrifyingly detached.

"What you really need is to get back to work." Camille suggested coldly, putting her hand on Rosalie's shoulder. "They'll be on to the next pretty face and forget you."

"It won't even matter that you're a Devereux, baby." Camille cooed, kneeling in front of Rosalie so she forced their eyes to meet. "Your name only gets you so far and it's not like you're in your best shape. Why don't you work on your weight? That'll give you something productive to focus on."

My blood boiled as Camille tapped the end of Rosalie's nose in a condescending gesture with a slick grin.

"Cami…" Diane seemed to rein her in as she saw my expression.

If Rosalie hadn't specifically asked for her mother and I hadn't practically bribed Camille to come from Paris, I would send her packing right now.

"That's enough." I practically growled and both Camille and Diane looked at me like I had three heads.

"I won't let you talk to her like that. I don't care who you are." The words poured from my mouth and they kept coming.

"She's _not okay_ … And, the only reason you're here is because she asked for _you_ to _make_ her okay. She thought you could help her. So you will do _exactly_ what she expected you to do, and that is to be her _mother_. You will find that deep within yourself if you have to, or you will _fake_ it for Christ's sake– because Rosalie _needs_ you right now."

Camille stared at me open-mouthed and Diane just gawked at me.

"Do I make myself clear?" I felt my voice boom from my chest.

Rosalie still didn't react to anything in the room, even the rise in my voice but still I felt the need to apologetically brush her hair over her shoulder.

"I would rather try and keep her numb than have her wake up to what she went through. If she is cognizant, she will break. You're asking her to deal with this, but she can't do it." Camille's voice was tainted with a little emotion for the first time.

"She can't!" Camille insisted, throwing her gaze to Diane for approval as she pulled my arm into the other room, minding what she was saying in front of Rosalie now.

She may be unresponsive but she's not deaf. Camille let go of my arm whirling around.

"Rosalie has _nothing_ else but her career and you. _Nothing_." Camille said, and even in a French accent it sounded harsh. "She's uneducated and unskilled and so this career is _all_ she has now. If she loses this career, she loses _everything_. She will never recover from this if she doesn't have a place to redirect."

"She needs to stay busy." Camille exhaled.

As I looked down on Camille, her face full of desperation and her hands waving animatedly, I knew she was right about that at least.

"Her child _died_."

I felt like I'd been drenched with ice cold water as I gasped inaudibly, holding on the painful inhale.

"And _your_ child died too." Camille spoke softer, her hand coming to mine.

My heart was beating loudly in my ears and I looked away, finally exhaling.

"The only thing keeping _you_ together right now is staying busy taking care of her." Camille whispered, treading lightly.

"And, if she's allowed to feel all of this pain before she's ready to process it, you might not be able to handle her… because I have a feeling it will break your heart to see _just how low_ she can go."

Camille squeezed my hand, fire in her eyes.

Her voice sounded a thousand miles away.

I just nodded, recoiling and crossing my arms over my chest.

"I may not be mother of the year, but I do want what's best for her." Camille sighed. "Though we may differ on what we think is best, I know that's what you want too."

"I do." I cleared my throat then noticed a ghostly figure in the doorway behind me.

"You left me." Rosalie's voice was hoarse because she hadn't spoken in a while, but every eye in the room was on her.

Diane stood behind her, mouth agape like she'd followed her in here.

Camille and I both waited expectantly, and I tried not to let my eyes get too wide as I looked at her like I hadn't seen her in years.

Her face was still blank, but she was in there. I could see it in her big violet eyes as she looked into mine.

She was waiting on me to respond.

"I'm sorry." I said, my voice sounding weird, but I didn't know what else to say.

She floated from the doorway with mist-like gracefulness, but with despair like swimming to the surface for a deep breath.

Rosalie's arms threaded under mine to wrap around my waist and I pressed my hands gently into her back at first, but as my body realized how much I had missed her, I squeezed her tighter.

Her head stayed on my chest and her eyes closed.

I stayed silent as I held onto her, afraid that she'd disintegrate if I let go or said the wrong thing.

Rosalie's breath was deep and even, and after a long moment she began to unthread from my arms, but not as if she was recoiling.

I stood stone still, as if not to spook her.

"Ma chérie," Her mom spoke some more unintelligible French to her, holding Rosalie's cheek in her palm but was careful not to get too emotional or affectionate.

The sides of Rosalie's mouth turned up slightly.

Rosalie never fully came back, and after a year, her emotional spectrum remained under near perfect control except a few episodes here and there. Nothing could crack the icy exterior she'd built in those two weeks and maintained for an entire year except Bella Swan reaching for a Coca-Cola at the dinner table.


	5. Clean

_Hey! Thank you for your patience on this update! I just got back from vacation ready to write! I am so appreciative of your reviews._

* * *

 _Clean – Incubus_

 _Today, everything was fine  
Until roundabout, quarter to nine  
I suddenly found myself in a bind  
Was it something I said?  
Something I read and manifested that's getting you down_

Don't you dare come to bed with that ambiguous look in your eye

I'd sooner sleep by an open fire and wake up fried

Say what you will

Say what you mean

You could never offend

 _Your dirty words come out clean_

* * *

 _Alice: Ice Was Dessert_

 _Tonight_

Edward cursed under his breath as he touched his fingers to the cut under his right eye where Emmett's wedding ring had gashed the skin.

" _Of course_ he's left handed." He growled as I handed him a pack of ice.

"You don't need stitches. It's just a little cut and it looks like the bleeding stopped." I said in my not so professional opinion, but I was a mother of three so I understood a bit.

Bella sat with wide doe eyes in front of him with a cold wet washcloth. She looked squeamishly at the blood, her lips a little too white to be healthy. I felt so sorry for her and I wished so badly tonight had gone off without a hitch for her.

I still knew next to nothing about her. She was quiet, but I could tell she was kind, intelligent, and interesting.

She made Edward, impossible Edward, _happy_.

I saw him smile more with her than I'd ever seen him smile before.

If this had been a year ago, she would have fit in perfectly. It was just… different now.

Rosalie made everything intensely difficult, but none of us could bear the thought of abandoning her given what she'd been through.

At first, it was easy to dismiss her new iciness, outbursts, and bad behavior like it would be to dismiss someone who didn't know any better. We could all just nod and instantly forgive her like Emmett still did, treating her like someone who was terminally ill and you would be a terrible person for calling them out for how heinous they are being.

Edward was the first one to grow tired of coddling Rosalie and Emmett, and while he would jab at them, it was still gentle mostly… Tonight though…

"I guess you think I deserved this." Edward eventually huffed to me as he put the ice on his already blackening eye.

Bella cleared her throat softly, seeming to do better as she looked away from the blood.

Rosalie and Emmett's behavior tonight was obviously uncalled for, and extremely odd, but not even one of us had thought about what today meant for them until Rosalie exploded over what seemed like nothing to the rest of us.

As time faded the memory of what happened last year to _us_ , it remained just as sharp as if it had just happened to _them_.

Rosalie was vicious and just straight up awful to Bella and it goes without saying that Emmett shouldn't have knocked Edward out.

Emmett and Rosalie weren't exactly the most _reasonable_ people I knew, but I knew with utmost confidence they weren't ones to act out of maliciousness, only security.

I should've known right then and there what was going through her mind. Rosalie was upset, and rightfully so, and her personality made her fixate on what she did wrong to make her lose the baby like she did…

 _So late_ …

Rosalie was young, healthy, and in perfect shape. Maybe she was a little thin, but she was supposed to be able to have a baby without any trouble. There wasn't anything wrong with her, it was just a _freak_ thing - like a one in a billion chance.

I was already planning her baby shower….

What did that say about our thoughtfulness? Not even _one_ of us thought about how they'd lost their baby last year, and I'm supposed to be her best friend.

Edward's her _brother_ …

Jasper and Emmett had been friends for _years_ and not one of us had even acknowledged that they'd be sensitive today…

My throat felt tight when I remembered I had to respond to Edward.

I sighed, looking away from him.

Guilt was covering me like sticky syrup.

"I didn't say that." I eventually decided to say.

Edward clenched his jaw.

"You don't have to." He said sourly.

"You've known Emmett for years, Edward. You know he's just always protecting her, at any cost, and even irrationally." I tried to offer.

"They're just so codependent it's sickening." He still rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear it.

"Why did you go after him like that?" I genuinely puzzled.

What had happened between he and Emmett to finally make him blindly attack him like he did?

Edward's jaw clenched.

"Edward," I prompted him.

"They're toxic for each other. Have been from the beginning." Edward said simply.

I exhaled knowing that's what he was going to say, but _not_ knowing if I believed him.

Rosalie and Emmett were passionate, fiery, and desperately in love with each other, but that intensity also had a very dark side to it as well. After last year, that dark part was front and center.

She was demanding. He was obsessive.

They used to never fight. Now, it was _incessant_.

Emmett was supervisory and neurotic about Rosalie in a way that could have been translated into protectiveness at one time, but was just on the edge of something more controlling and dangerous now.

He sheltered her to a fault, censoring conversation around her, redirecting her schedule, and making sure she never encountered anything that would make her remember what happened to her.

Rosalie though… was another beast entirely. She had absolutely _random_ outbursts, and their unsystematic nature and odd triggering points made it impossible to plan for how to deal with her.

She was insanely jealous of Emmett's attention on anything other than her, and was desperate for it in a very paranoid way.

The tabloids whispered of domestic violence when around 2 a.m. last month, Emmett showed up to the hospital without Rosalie to get stitches above his left eye. Undoubtedly, she'd thrown something glass at him, but he told everyone he just hit the doorframe.

Everyone knew that Emmett would _never_ hit Rosalie, but every time we saw them, we analyzed them for bruises or odd signs anyways. Emmett just looked exhausted and drunk all the time and Rosalie just looked apathetic and scarily removed until she wasn't.

They were bending under the weight of each other, and things _weren't_ getting better. They were getting worse.

But, no one knew how to help them so none of us could do anything.

"Rosalie's way more messed up than Emmett wants to believe, or maybe he _likes_ the fact that she needs him so much." Edward snorted. "You know he wants to control her and when she's weak like this he…"

"That's not true." I said softly, interrupting him.

I wasn't discounting his feelings of resentment, but Emmett _lived_ for Rosalie. To him, the sun rose and set because of her. He would chain himself to hell's fireplace if that were where she was.

He would never want her to be broken just so he would be needed to pick up the pieces…

Yes, she was 10ish years younger than Emmett and the rest of us, but she'd had more life experience than all of us combined, well except Emmett ironically enough. She'd been through so much, and had to grow up faster than any of us had.

At seventeen, I was going to prep school, struggling with math homework, and hoping that I got asked to prom. At seventeen, Rosalie was making hundreds of thousands of dollars with a successful career, solidifying her voice as an influencer as she spoke on the national stage about social issues plaguing our society, and planning to spend her life with Emmett McCarty.

There was no denying that in a lot of ways Rosalie still had some growing up to do, but she was never one to do anything _she_ didn't want to do, even if it was for her husband.

I think Edward knew that deep down, but he was just angry and was searching for an outlet.

"And, you _know_ they're not ready for a baby." Edward seemed to be spewing out things that had been weighing on the tip of his tongue for a while. "Emmett can't raise Rosalie AND raise a child and that's what he's doing right now and you know it. He's raising Rosalie, and he's letting her get away with murder."

"Edward…" I began, knowing he wasn't exactly wrong. "No one's really ready for a baby."

"Rosalie shouldn't have talked to Bella like she did. That was monstrous." Edward snapped and Bella's face turned scarlet.

"No, she shouldn't have." I agreed with him. "But-"

" _Everyone_ makes excuses for her." Edward cut me off, shaking his hand to stop me.

"Because she's genuinely… _troubled_ , Edward." I hissed trying to choose the right word, but was still not confident with the one I'd settled on.

"But, maybe she wouldn't be if he hadn't _made her_ like this." Edward was speaking venomously, and I saw that he wasn't budging.

I sighed.

"He didn't-" I began.

"He _did_." Edward argued. "Don't you remember her before?"

"Yeah, Edward, I do." I sighed, feeling like I was betraying Rosalie for some reason.

"He pushes her to do everything he wants her to do. He pushed her to have a baby before she was ready."

"She wanted a baby." I said, but had no way of knowing if this was true.

"Because she wants to make him happy!" Edward argued. "She was twenty years old when he told her to have a baby, Alice. She's barely a child herself."

"She knows what she's doing." I retorted.

"Obviously not." Edward said venomously.

"Edward, that was a freak accident and you know it." I said, my throat tight, not looking at Bella.

He didn't argue, but I could tell he wasn't satisfied.

"He didn't deal with her right in the beginning and there's still residual damage. You know he shipped her off to Paris with Camille and didn't get her real help. Alice, you know there could be something seriously wrong with her _up there_."

He tapped the side of his head.

This was Edward's strongest argument, and the most personal. Rosalie had left October of last year for Paris to live with her mother and step-mother.

While yes, she needed the trajectory for her career from landing the cover of French Vogue and yes, she was the princess of fashion that needed to step back into the limelight to maintain her crown, she _stayed_ gone and that was the problem. Paparazzi often found her partying, shopping to spend exorbitant amounts of money, and acting as only a socialite secure being the center of attention would.

We barely saw Emmett during this time, but the few times Jasper did see him, Jasper was shocked at how _off_ he seemed. But, Emmett always made sure to smile when he told Jasper and I how well Rosalie was doing, how often they talked, and how much he hated how busy they both were that they couldn't hop the pond to see each other.

This lasted for _three_ months.

When the holidays came, Rosalie opted to stay in Paris, and Edward was fuming. He left for Paris in mid-January and though he came back empty-handed and was silent about what had happened there, a week later, Rosalie showed up with all of her things and with an entirely new personality.

She was rigid until she went out of control, she was cold until she had a fiery explosion, and she was quiet… _so quiet_. She would only speak if spoken to, and would only then respond in very short succinct sentences to the things she wanted to respond to.

It was a mystery what was going on in her head, and that's what made her outbursts so terrifying.

As soon as she returned, Emmett was immediately overprotective of her and Edward was callous, and the weirdest thing of all was that she was more hell-bent on having a baby than she ever had been before.

She was neurotic and meticulous about everything she'd read about getting pregnant and when one thing didn't immediately work, she'd move on to the next.

Jasper and I just didn't know where we stood in all of this, and so we just acted like nothing happened. But, that put us in a better position to observe and see what was really going on. It was heartbreaking, but we didn't know how to fix it.

"Camille is her _mother_. I'm sure Emmett thought he was doing what was best when he sent her away…" I protested, but knew as well as he did that Rosalie had been all but brainwashed in Paris those months…

The words I'd used felt like the wrong ones. He hadn't sent her away. She hadn't run away. He hadn't let her go. She hadn't begged to. She was just… _gone_.

"I just… I've just been thinking about before all this and before _everything_ , how happy she used to be and how she was almost getting back to that person before he asked – no _told_ \- her to have a baby and all of it went wrong - so I just… I just finally snapped tonight." Edward sighed.

We all stayed quiet for a long moment.

"Too much has happened for her to ever be that person again, Edward." I said softly. "You know that."

Edward looked away defiantly, but I saw he accepted that.

"It's just when she attacked Bella tonight, it felt personal. The Rosalie that _was_ my little sister would've never done that because of how it would hurt me." He clenched his jaw.

I knew Edward and Rosalie were extremely close before last year, but that was so hard for me to imagine with how cold and mean they were to one another now.

"Bella, I swear we're not always this dramatic." Jasper sighed, returning from finally getting the kids to bed. "This was just a… very _odd_ night."

"Okay." Bella frowned.

"We usually all get along and we have so much fun together." I put my hand on her shoulder with a smile. "And, you'll have fun once you get to know everyone. It's our little misfit family."

She just nodded knowing I just meant when she gets to know Rosalie.

Bella didn't seem to believe me, and she tucked her dark brown hair behind her ear.

The room was quiet for a long moment before I spoke up.

"You're the first new person to our group of friends that isn't a baby and… Well… There's a lot you need to know about Rosalie and Emmett to understand why they… act the way they do." I said, trying to open the floor.

"Understatement of the year." Edward scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"My entire _life_ has been walking on eggshells for Rosalie." Edward growled, not letting anyone else say anything before he was finished seething about how much he hated Emmett and Rosalie.

"Edward…" I scolded. "It's not that you have to walk on _eggshells_ around them, but they're just… _complicated_ if you don't know them."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Bella." Jasper started, seeming to want to control and manage the toxic energy in the room.

"I just… I _do_ wish I'd known what I was walking into." Bella's eyes started to glisten and my heart dropped.

"See, I shouldn't have to prepare her for battle strategy just to come to dinner with you guys." Edward raised an eyebrow. "We used to have so much fun before Rosalie went… _crazy_."

This term was not used loosely. He'd chosen it specifically.

We were supposed to go to a restaurant tonight, but after what happened last time, we couldn't risk it with Bella here.

The last time we'd had dinner together out, Rosalie had inconspicuously wrapped her hand around her steak knife, squeezing until it gashed through her palm and fingers and Emmett noticed the bright red blood on the lap of her white dress when she finally passed out from the blood loss.

When she came to, she calmly explained to him that she thought he was looking at the waitress – like what she did was a completely rational response to that.

The worst part was Emmett didn't look surprised that she'd done that, just apologetic as he took her to get her hand stitched up in the emergency room later that night.

We had dinner at Jasper's and my place ever since.

But even that didn't solve everything – once, Emmett had answered the phone after dinner because he and Carlisle were in the middle of a big case and Rosalie got up, walked out our front door, and threw herself down the stairs for his attention.

Emmett had sighed, and picked her up from the bottom of the stairs– again, not even half as surprised as the rest of us as he wrapped her sprained wrist.

Another time, Emmett had to work late and so Rosalie came to dinner by herself and he was going to meet her over here. She was convinced he was having an affair and eventually making herself believe it so much that she made herself sick and he had to take her to the doctor.

And even once more, Edward brought a date once – someone from law school and the girl was great – just not for Edward. She'd obsessed over Rosalie a little, wanting to talk about fashion and fame and whatnot. She complimented Rosalie's hair, so Rosalie wordlessly went in the kitchen and opened a drawer. Moments later, Emmett was trying to pry the scissors out of her hands as she attempted to cut her own hair up to the scalp.

Taking care of Rosalie was a constant, endless duty and I knew how exhausted Emmett must be. It was like watching a toddler that could hurt themselves with anything.

Rosalie was a full-time job and he already had one of those. It's not like he could hire a babysitter for her.

"But you _were_ pretty antagonistic, Edward... Especially when I already stuck out like a sore thumb on the outside of the group." Bella admitted softly.

"I'm sorry…" Edward's face softened.

"Bella, it has nothing to do with them not liking you or wanting you around." Jasper tried to comfort her. "You fit in with us perfectly. Like Emmett said, you're family now."

Bella's lips pursed into a line.

Bella thought she'd made Rosalie hate her for some reason, and that couldn't be further from the truth.

Edward took her hand, apologizing again.

"Rosalie and Emmett have both been through so much in their own lives, and so much together that they both go into this…. ' _survival mode'_ when they feel vulnerable or they think the other is vulnerable." I explained them the best way I knew how.

Bella looked at me with wide, expressionless eyes.

"They viciously and irrationally protect themselves and each other. Emmett would kill someone with his bare hands for Rosalie, and I swear Rosalie would literally drink the blood of someone that wronged Emmett." I said, making sure she knew I wasn't speaking in hyperbole.

I wasn't exaggerating. Even as much as they fought with each other now, they still fought _for_ each other more.

"They take loyalty to an absolutely _outrageous_ level." Jasper expanded, encompassing what I was trying to say perfectly. "Their dedication to one another can get scary…. As you saw."

"I just don't know what I did to make her attack me like that…" Bella was still confused. "I don't think I…"

She trailed off, her brow furrowing as she tried to recount the night. And what she would've done to set Rosalie off.

I exchanged a look with Edward.

She needed to know.

"You didn't do anything wrong." Edward sighed. "If anything it was my fault."

"It was _our_ fault." I put my hand on his arm. "We were careless, and… and we didn't think about what today meant for them when we planned for you to meet everyone."

I paused for a long moment.

"I don't know if you picked this up or not… But, they've been trying to start a family for _a while_." I exhaled then cleared my throat.

I felt like I was sharing a story that wasn't mine and my palms were sweaty as I thought about how Rosalie would react. But, then again, it was more dangerous to not know as we so perfectly displayed tonight.

"This time last year though, everything was fine and Rosalie was a very different person than she is now. Emmett too." I swallowed, still getting irrationally nervous.

"Spit it out, Alice. You're making it harder when you think about it." Edward said sourly with a grimace. "Their little girl died. Rosalie was just a couple months away from the full term and it was a freak thing and… well the baby died."

Bella's hand came to her mouth and her face went white.

Edward didn't sugar coat it, but he put his hand on her shoulder in support.

"What happened?" Bella breathed, putting her own hands on her stomach, obviously afraid.

That's part of the reason I was so scared to tell her. There was no sense in scaring her with some freak accident tale and stressing her out over her own pregnancy.

After what happened to Rosalie, I had to admit, every little change during pregnancy terrified me and I went to the doctor three times more this go round than I did with Jane or Alec.

"Everything was fine, then one day it wasn't." Edward shrugged, trying not to have Bella fixate as he recognized her nervousness. "Obviously none of us asked."

"It's okay." I comforted her irrationally.

"That's… so sad." Bella's bottom lip trembled.

"I know." Edward sighed, and I watched guilt flood his eyes.

It was quiet for a second.

"I'm sorry…" Bella's bottom lip was full-on pouted now.

"You have nothing to be guilty about." Edward said with intention taking Bella's face in his hands.

"I know…" Bella choked on a little sob, tears starting to escape from her big brown eyes.

My stomach tossed and turned and Jasper put his arm around my shoulders.

"But I'm still sorry." Bella said, taking Edward's hand and looking up at him. "That's your _family_ …"

Edward's face changed and I saw something in his eyes that suggested he was far away.

"What can we do?..." Edward finally sighed, looking at nothing in particular. "We _have_ to do something…"


	6. The Kids Aren't All Right

Your reviews are SO KIND! Thank you for your support and love! My heart is so happy reading your words! I hope you enjoy mine!

* * *

 _The Kids Aren't All Right – Fall Out Boy_

 _I'm not passive but aggressive  
Take note, it's not impressive  
Empty your sadness, like you're dumping your purse  
On my bedroom floor_

 _We put your curse in reverse_

 _And it's our time now if you want it to be  
More the war like the carnival bears set free  
And your love is anemic and I can't believe  
That you couldn't see it coming from me_

 _And I still feel that rush in my veins  
It twists my head just a bit too thin  
All those people in those old photographs I've seen are dead_

* * *

 _Edward: When I Became a Brother_

 _7 years ago; January_

"Is your sister here or not?" My friend Demetri asked impatiently.

I took a deep breath as he tossed the ball, bouncing it back and forth between his hands and the wall of my room.

Six more eyes looked over to me anxiously, distracted from our study group.

"I mean, I don't know." I rolled my eyes, tugging on the bottom of my NYU sweatshirt. "Now please… Let's get to work on this project."

I think I was the only one that was stressed and it made me even more stressed.

It was the final project of my senior year of college, and I had to make sure my grades were still perfect so I could get a good job as an engineer like my dad was.

My dad died when I was just 13 by suicide, leaving my mom and I in a Chicago suburb alone. My mom had never held a job and I was just learning how to be a teenager so we struggled for a while.

My mom's childhood sweetheart came to the funeral when he heard the news and years later they reconnected when he conveniently came to Chicago on a business trip after his wife came out as a lesbian and moved with her new partner to France. In just a few short months, I was going to NYU _without_ having to take out a student loan because my mom married fashion billionaire Robert Hale.

I'd worked for two years trying to save up for college, but Robert paid every bit of it, trying to get me to respect him I suppose.

Robert's daughter, Rosalie and I got along great. She was nine years younger than me, but because she grew up an only child and was always hanging around adults, she didn't act like an annoying baby sister did in all the movies.

She didn't really start annoying me until _lately_. Whether it was because I was tired, stressed, and short tempered with schoolwork or because she was actually getting to be as vain and self-centered as I imagined her to be, her voice had become like nails on a chalkboard.

Because her dad was this big fashion mogul and her mom Camille was a French supermodel, high fashion was in her blood, and she knew nothing but a life of luxury. She was just fifteen now, but she'd been getting these big modeling gigs and stuff for a long time so I couldn't say she didn't work hard for her own money.

But… there was still something about her that was overindulged and self-centered that made me think she was a brat. I don't know if I just disliked her for her privilege and shallow idea of tragedy, or if she was actually a brat.

I tried not to resent the fact she didn't know the tragedy I knew so familiarly, and that she got to live her youth in a worriless bliss…

Nonetheless, all of my friends were obsessed with my stepsister. I swore that was the only reason I even had friends.

Luckily, she was much too young for any of them so I didn't have to deal with my friends dating her. Even then though, Rosalie probably wouldn't date them anyways. She wouldn't date _anyone_.

She'd been catcalled since she was ten and as she got older and her face became more recognizable, it only got more intense. Through it all though, she'd remained laughably innocent - blushing at even the idea of a boyfriend.

Her dad had recently mentioned how one of his coworkers' sons had sent her a Valentine card and wanted to know if she wanted to see a movie. She turned scarlet red and he told her he was a nice guy and had good parents and how he most definitely approved, but no kissing till she was 30.

She'd gotten up from the table and stormed out of the room, not wanting to hear any more.

I remember one night last week Rosalie and I were watching Citizen Kane together and I'd casually mentioned that it was okay if she liked girls, that we lived in a different time and we'd love her no matter what.

She'd looked at me like I had three heads.

'It's not something you inherit, Edward.' She'd said to make me feel stupid. 'I like boys. Just not any yet.'

'I didn't mean it like that… Like your mom… I mean…. I didn't know if you knew since you'd never….' I'd slapped a palm to my face and she'd laughed.

'I mean… how do _you_ know if you like boys or girls?' She'd raised an eyebrow. 'No one gets on to you about not dating anyone.'

'Touché.' I had to agree with her.

'Maybe it's because you're such a nerd they don't expect much.' Rosalie had teased.

Rosalie might not date, but she did _love_ attention. Sometimes I thought that's why she didn't date. She didn't want to narrow the breadth of attention down.

Presently, I heard a light knock on my door and sighed.

I stood to open my door as my friends all skittered to act natural.

"How's my favorite step brother?" Rosalie stood at the door in a baby pink sports bra and skin-tight leggings in a matching color.

Her long blonde hair was pulled into a bouncy high ponytail and she twirled a strand around her fingers.

My face turned red, but she smiled that sickly sweet smile, reveling in the attention she was getting.

She lived for this. Attention and adoration was like air to her. If she didn't have it, she'd surely die.

Sometimes I just wished she had a little more humility. Or modesty. Or tact.

But then again… she was just 15. She was a kid. She didn't know who she was yet.

"What'd you do today?" Seth asked her as she brought the straw of some mysterious green juice to her pouty pink lips.

"Reebok. I shot a campaign for their Club C line." She twirled a piece of her golden blonde hair around her manicured fingers

"That's so cool." Demetri ogled at her.

"It's nothing." She batted her long black eyelashes. "I'm really just looking forward to Fashion Week. My dad got me in to walk for Brandon Maxwell."

"Oh wow." Seth nodded, just staring at her.

They had no idea what that meant or how big of a deal that was. I'd watched her jump around and squeal for three days straight.

There was no denying that she'd worked hard to get to this place, but I still resented that I was sweating over engineering work right now.

"Rosalie, didn't you say you were going to call your mom today?" I tried to divert her.

They'd had their fun. She'd gotten her attention. Now, she needed to leave.

"It's getting late in France. You should probably –"

"I know that." She pouted.

Her French supermodel mom had packed up and moved back to Paris with her new girlfriend the day after Rosalie's eighth birthday.

Camille Devereux hadn't looked back since, and Rosalie's relationship with her absentee mother was definitely not a topic of conversation that Rosalie deemed appropriate.

I knew she was still devastated, but talking about her mom definitely got under her skin, so I knew she'd back off and leave us alone to focus on this project.

Rosalie and I got along great. She and I clicked instantly and she was the baby sister I never had, but she still wasn't very happy that Chicagoans had infiltrated her perfect Manhattan socialite family.

Rosalie and I entered our parents' relationship with some hesitation of course, but ultimately we were all a big, happy family except Rosalie and my mom, but they tolerated one another.

Rosalie and I quickly became thick as thieves, but occasionally she'd get annoying or I'd hit a nerve, and I figured I did now because Rosalie turned on her heel to retreat.

"Don't work too hard." Rosalie smiled a sickly sweet smile to sign off from the room.

"She is so hot." Seth was drooling when she was barely out of earshot.

"Not happening." I put him back in line swiftly.

He rolled his eyes.

"Don't burst our bubbles, Edward." Demetri clapped me on the shoulder.

"NOT. HAPPENING." I got a little defensive and my voice came out hostile. "She's _fifteen_ years old."

"Whoa, Edward we're just messing around." Seth's eyes got wide. "We get it."

"Plus, _no one_ will ever be good enough for her." Sam spoke overdramatically, not amused by how 'prudish' she was.

His younger brother had just tried to get with her so he knew how reticent she truly was. I didn't blame her for that; Sam's little brother was gross.

"But, she is jailbait." Seth mumbled.

Sam called her something under his breath and I started seeing red.

That was it.

"Get out." I huffed, closing his textbook and shoving it into his chest.

"God, Edward I was just messing around." He said with wide eyes.

He may have been, but I didn't care.

"I said get out." I repeated, standing up. " _No one_ talks about my sister like that."

I heard Rosalie's footsteps outside, knowing she'd been listening right outside the door.

* * *

 _Tomorrow Never Came – Lana Del Rey_

 _I waited for you  
In the spot you said to wait  
In the city, on a park bench  
In the middle of the pouring rain  
'Cause I adored you  
I just wanted things to be the same  
You said to meet me out there tomorrow  
But tomorrow never came_

* * *

 _Edward: When It Isn't Normal Teenaged Behavior_

 _Six Months later_

"We've _got_ to do something Robert." My mom hissed.

She wasn't very good at whispering and I heard her in the kitchen from the living room.

In the other room I folded my legs under me, shifting on the couch awkwardly as I sat opposite the shell of my stepsister.

Rosalie's usually manicured nails were bitten down low and there was blood on her cuticles. Almost on cue with my thoughts, Rosalie began anxiously biting her nails.

Her round violet eyes were half-crazed and had dark circles under them, as she looked vacantly at the television screen.

She'd gotten scarily skinny, her cheeks appearing hollow on her pale skin.

"I love this show." I said, trying to make conversation as I flipped the channel. "We can watch whatever you want though."

"This is fine." Rosalie breathed, her voice ghostly.

"Are you sure?" I asked awkwardly.

She seemed desperate and afraid, but nodded.

"I mean, I'm not really paying attention anyway. I've got some homework to look over." I added. "Applied Chemical Kinetics…. Fun, right?"

Rosalie didn't respond, just started biting her nails again mindlessly.

"She's just a teenager." Robert dismissed.

"This is not normal behavior for a fifteen year old, Robert. Do something." My mom said.

I tried not to look over at Rosalie where she was sitting, curled up on the couch but I saw through my peripheral vision that she had wiped her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

It was July and she was wearing a sweater.

She was crying….

My stomach dropped. What hadn't I picked up on? I knew I was busy lately, but she had seemed to do an entire 360 in just a month and I had been too busy to notice why.

Her knees were so bony that they looked as if they were about to puncture through her black sweat pants.

"Rosalie!" Robert called as he walked into the room and Rosalie seemed startled as she flinched at his voice.

He noticed and took his voice down a few notches.

"Rosalie, can I talk to you a moment, baby?" He sat down in the chair in front of her and she nodded slightly.

My mom came in the room and suddenly it felt like an intervention. She came to sit on the couch next to Rosalie, stooping down slowly.

Rosalie withered away from her like a shriveling plant and every muscle in her body desiccated like my mom had hit her with a branding iron as she just lightly put her hand on Rosalie's shoulder.

I watched my mom's face fall as she retracted her hand.

Rosalie still didn't relax, her violet eyes red as she looked at her stepmother in distrust.

"Rosalie… you can't throw your life away." Her dad began and I felt incredibly uncomfortable sitting in here so I looked down at my notebook and textbook, twisting my pencil to start looking busy.

"You can't ruin everything you've worked for. You need to take some jobs and call your agent and just… show up when people ask you to be somewhere. You're ruining your name and my name and… and your _mother's_ name."

Robert wore a sour expression.

Rosalie remained motionless, her eyes blankly staring.

"Rosalie, honey… If you've gotten into something you need help with, your father and I want to help you." My mom still wasn't convinced Rosalie wasn't addicted to drugs and she was making it obvious.

I'd heard rumors that Camille, Rosalie's mom, had been a fan of cocaine, so it would only make sense Rosalie would be predisposed to the behavior of her mother.

But, I thought I would know if Rosalie was doing drugs. It didn't feel like that. I had a pit in my stomach and I had a really bad feeling.

Something was wrong. Something happened.

"Rosalie, you need to either explain yourself or tell me you understand that your behavior has to change or we're going to have to punish you." Robert pushed. "You've been dodging all of your responsibilities for over a month."

His eyes danced over her severely and she bobbed her head down.

"Okay." Rosalie said, barely audibly. "I understand."

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, tears starting to dot her face.

"Rosalie, please talk to us." My mom pressed.

"Baby… please let me try and help you if you need it." Robert's voice broke as he reached out for her quickly and intensely to place his hand on Rosalie's knee.

She jerked her legs away, her teeth gritted together and her eyes glassy.

"Don't." She seemed to beg and I got a chill down my spine.

I had a terrible feeling and I couldn't look up from my book but I hadn't read a single word the whole time I looked down.

"I… I just need to talk to someone." Rosalie spoke softly.

The room was eerily quiet.

"Rosalie…" Robert began, almost in questioning.

"I need an attorney."

The oxygen was sucked from the room.

Robert and my mom exchanged a worried, frantic look, and eventually Robert spoke.

"Um… I'll call my office and get one of our top floor guys to…" Robert stumbled over his words, looking over his broken little princess.

Rosalie shook her head subtly.

"No. It's not for business or contracts or anything." Rosalie furrowed her brow, picking at her nails nervously.

"Rosalie, what kind of trouble are you in?" Her dad's voice began to rise.

"What's going on?" My mom begged, looking over to me like I knew the answer.

I shrugged, diverting.

"What do you need?" Robert tried to compose himself and you could tell it took a lot out of him.

"I... I need someone that's out for blood. A prosecutor." Rosalie said severely, her eyes deep and mysterious.

It would be years later before she'd realize just how much she needed _this_ prosecutor.


	7. Hue

Thank you for your support and love! I have enjoyed reading all of your words! I hope you enjoy mine! (I know this is a short chapter, but I'll have another long one coming for you soon! Please review!)

* * *

 _Hue- SOHN_

 _Show me something that I've never seen_  
 _Cause I'm lost and I need feeding_  
 _Give me things that I've never had_  
 _Cause I'm bad at seeing ahead, it's true_

 _I'll never find another like you_  
 _Similar tone but a different hue_  
 _Could never love another like you_  
 _I've been out living, it's true_  
 _But enough's enough_

* * *

 _Edward: The Blindsided Wedding_

 _Emmett and Rosalie's Wedding, 5 years ago._

I clapped Robert on the shoulder from where he sat at a table on the corner of the dance floor drinking on a martini that was definitely not his first.

"How are you doing?" I asked, plopping down in the chair next to him.

I followed his eyes to where his sweet, perfect Rosalie was looking radiant and absolutely picturesque as she twirled into the arms of her new husband with a beaming smile.

"I always thought she'd be in a custom Dior…" Robert exhaled, obviously not dealing with this day very well.

"A what?" I had no idea what he was talking about and I watched my date, Tanya at the bar flirting with the bartender out of the corner of my eye.

Oh well. I wasn't interested anyway.

She had actually used the word _'irregardless…'_

"The designer." Robert raised his glass, furrowing his brow and looking away. "I always thought she'd be in a custom gown – Dior… French haute couture of course… Victorian buttons, appliquéd with roses, crystal beading, silk tulle…"

"But…. That takes months and months to create." He seemed genuinely distraught and I followed his eyes as he looked over at Rosalie.

She looked gorgeous, and I wouldn't have known if her wedding dress was custom made by Dior or picked off the clearance rack in the thrift store.

I barely noticed her dress because she looked so happy, so _blissfully_ happy as she danced freely, laughing, talking animatedly. She was swinging in the arms of what appeared to be the love of her life.

It made me believe in love. It made me want it.

"She's not even wearing true couture…" He brought his glass to his lips, finishing his drink before he raised a hand and asked the waiter to bring him another.

"By that, I mean not certified by Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture." Her dad seemed to be fixating on the fact she didn't have time to have a wedding gown custom made to really address how he was feeling about his only daughter's shotgun wedding.

"I mean… Elise Hameau is a brilliant designer, and truly French… but…" He trailed off, rambling meaninglessly.

He barely stopped a sentence before he started again.

"Do you think she's showing too much skin for a wedding?" Robert asked clutching his glass as he watched Emmett's hand suggestively trail down Rosalie's bare spine as they danced to a Spanish song that began to sound a lot more like we were in a club.

The way they looked at each other made you feel the need to look away.

I felt awkward and had no idea what to say to a father watching his baby girl look at a man like _that_.

Her dress was backless until it absolutely _had_ to have fabric, but the high neck and long sleeves were supposed to balance it out I guess.

I didn't know anything about fashion.

At the ceremony in St. Patrick's, her veil had adequately covered her bare back enough to keep Emmett's mom from having a heart attack, but Rosalie had retired the veil for the reception.

Now, no promises on that heart attack.

I saw Emmett's mom seated on the outskirts of the dance floor talking to Emmett's little sister who was trying to half-heartedly entertain a raven haired child about four years old over a very basketball shaped stomach. She gossiped undoubtedly about the fair-haired addition to their family.

Their eyes danced to Rosalie with slight judgment and condescension so I imagined the two of them were having a conversation about Rosalie very similar to the two of us about Emmett…

"I mean…" I started because the silence was getting a little too long, but still had no idea what to start with.

I thought she looked fine.

"What do you think of him, Edward?" Robert grabbed my arm, pulling me closer so he wouldn't be talking too loud.

"Me?" I raised my eyebrows, scooting my chair back a little.

"Yes. What do you think of him?" His eyes burned into mine.

"I… I don't know him that well, but I…" I ran a hand through my hair uncomfortably, bringing my beer to my lips to cut myself off.

I'd had a couple drinks with Emmett and Robert once about a month ago and he seemed as charismatic as they come. He was funny and full of personality so it was shocking that he was actually undercover _brilliant_.

Robert told me he went to the Stuyvesant High School, finished undergrad at Princeton in two years, and graduated law school at Harvard top of his class.

Robert had bragged on him like a son that night, clapping him on the shoulder and insisting he go golfing with him. They always got along incredibly well, and Robert enjoyed having him around the past year or so, but now that I think back on it, I noticed that when Rosalie showed up at the restaurant to pick up the key to her dad's atelier because she left her coat there, Emmett stood up to leave just a few minutes later...

How long had they been sneaking around?

They met just a little less than two years ago...

"I'm sure he's great." I finished my sentence, but Robert didn't want any of it.

"You know he's only 5 years younger than Rosalie's _mother_ … Only nine years younger than _me_?" Robert was obviously appalled by this but it wasn't as bad as he was making it sound especially now and especially in the lives of the rich and famous.

But yes… It was true that Emmett had just turned 30, and Rosalie was freshly 18. (Fresh as in, she turned 18 five days ago.)

"I didn't see this coming…" Robert responded quickly grabbing my shoulder again and speaking through a whisper like he was telling me something top secret. "How did I not see this coming? When have they been seeing each other? Was he seeing her behind my back, in my own home?"

"It was… _fast_." I agreed, but didn't want to undermine Rosalie or alarm Robert.

The way she was acting right now made it clear she didn't know her father was watching her every move - or maybe she did and was just being stubborn and rebellious. She kissed Emmett with the kind of kiss you can't look at for long without feeling like you're intruding so both Robert and I dropped our heads.

Robert groaned in obvious torture.

"He asked me for my blessing _three days ago,_ Edward. Then, he gave her the ring that night." Robert sighed as the waiter returned with another martini. "And, I thought he was coming just to drink scotch, play poker, and talk money and politics with _me_."

I swallowed.

"Well, you obviously like him." I suggested as Robert took a sip. "I mean, you get along pretty well?"

And they did. Robert genuinely cared for him.

"Before I knew he was… well..." Robert's face went white. "Do you believe the rumors?"

"God, no." I responded in a knee-jerk reaction, but wasn't totally sure Rosalie _wasn't_ pregnant.

I mean what else makes sense about getting engaged to someone 12 years older than you that you'd never publicly dated and walking down the aisle less than a week later.

Oh well. We'd find out soon enough.

"It's obvious they love each other." I said, trying to ease his mind as he worried about his daughter.

Rosalie was headstrong, and when she made her mind up about something, it was set in stone. It became her law.

She wasn't exactly analytical and calculated, but she was never one to act impulsively out of passion or haste. Her heart was far from her sleeve and her emotion was far from a motivation for her actions.

If she was marrying this guy, she had good reason.

"You think so?" Robert took a deep breath, looking over and watching her laugh as Emmett kissed her cheek.

Rosalie looked up at Emmett in a way I wanted someone to look at me one day. I was the romantic of the family, and Rosalie was the realist so the transformation in her eyes was just astounding.

"Yeah, I do." I repeated, standing my claim confidently. "Just look at them."

I'd never seen anyone look at each other the way they looked at each other.

"Have you ever seen her that happy?" I asked.

"No." I heard Robert audibly sigh, but this was less of a groan of stress and more of a serene surrender. "No, I haven't."

"He made that happen, Robert." I suggested.

"You remember what she was like just a year ago." I went on. "No one could bring her back from that dark place, but he did."

Robert cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to get too emotional.

"She does have the Harry Winston diamond…" Her dad seemed to be compromising because at least this standard for his little princess was met.

And my God, did she have a diamond fit for a princess.

"You know he's going to take care of her." I said, speaking confidently, but I hoped I made it obvious that I didn't mean financially.

"I hope you're right, Edward." Robert nodded, relaxing back in his chair.

"He'll take care of her." I comforted him, sure of myself as I said this.

"You know, Rosalie was the easiest baby in the world. She didn't cry much, just looked up at me with those big violet eyes and smiled." Robert sighed a little tug on the corners of his lips.

"As she grew, not much changed. She just smiled up at me, and watched with those big violet eyes, and always wanted to stay close and be hugged and held and rocked." Robert's own eyes sparkled with the undying love he felt for her. "She would crawl up into my lap and put her head on my chest because she told me she wanted to hear my heart. She'd lie there, just breathing..."

Robert's fingers traced just slightly over his chest as if he was remembering so vividly he was there in this moment.

"She was always such a happy child. But even as those violet eyes watched me, they watched her mother too..." Robert spoke as if the words were sour and his brow furrowed. "Camille was removed, and detached, and... even negligent because she never wanted to keep her in the first place. We were young... Camille wouldn't hold her. She wouldn't play with her. She wouldn't talk to her. But, I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her... My Rosalie."

It was such a tender thing hearing him speak so freely of his love for her and my heart felt heavy as I looked over at Rosalie so happy in this moment..

"I always worried that Rosalie would watch her mother too closely and see all of this and think that was what love looked like... I worried that Rosalie wouldn't be able to love, or feel, or care for anyone... And when her mother left us... I was afraid Rosalie was going to take note."

"Then... after what happened to her... I..." Robert choked on the impossible words to say.

"I know." I said swiftly.

I didn't know; I just knew how much it would torture him to revisit those awful memories.

"I was so afraid she'd never..." Robert's yes danced over to her.

I also watched Rosalie as she and Emmett talked, her big blue eyes unmoving as she gazed up at him. The look in her eyes proved Robert's point. She more than loved him. She worshipped him, adored him, and revered him.

"He will either be her saving grace or her worst downfall." Robert said prophetically after a silent moment. "She loves him way too much."

I felt a little darkness wash over me.

Rosalie bloomed like a spring flower for him, opening up and letting her vulnerabilities show.

Rosalie was already past the point of no return. He had her heart in his hands. He could hurt her beyond how she's ever been hurt.

That's when I took a moment and inspected Emmett's gaze on her, only to find that the inverse was true. It was Rosalie who would be _his_ saving grace or worst downfall.

He loved her _desperately_. She had _his_ heart in _her_ hands. She could hurt _him_ beyond how _he's_ ever been hurt.

Either one could slip under the weight of their love for the other. They were both walking a wobbling tightrope.

I just prayed they had the balance.


	8. Grow

I love you guys so much that here's another chapter! Thanks so much for your support!

* * *

 _Grow – Rae Morris_

 _All of the thoughts we waste_  
 _Under the weight of the world_

 _All of the time we spend_  
 _with the weight of the world_

 _Don't miss you ways_  
 _Don't miss your leaving_

 _Love live my pain_  
 _Long live my feelings_

 _Blind and childish_  
 _I won't fight it_  
 _Here I hide underneath my innocence_

* * *

 _Edward: The Night We Had Dinner with Satan_

 _October, Last Year_

" _What do you mean Camille is here?!_ " Robert roared over the phone.

He was talking to Emmett.

I flinched over my textbook as I studied at the dining room table.

This wasn't good.

My mom insisted I come home once a week for a real dinner now that I'd moved out into my own apartment and she assumed I just ate ramen noodles and peanut butter sandwiches.

Tonight, Emmett was supposed to bring Rosalie over and I had to admit I was terrified.

It's not that I didn't want to offer her support or love after…. After what happened to her, but I was just scared to see her so low again…

Robert had seen her last week and he said it was the scariest thing he'd ever seen. He said she was unresponsive, just staring straight ahead while the world spun around her.

Robert said that's been etched in his brain for eternity and honestly it terrified me.

I had no idea what I was walking into today but my mom made me feel intensely obligated to be there for Rosalie.

I didn't think one person could endure more than one life shattering tragedy and Rosalie had two of them before age 22.

I guess it had been a month or so since it happened, and while it was true I'd been busy with moving and law school; honestly I just had no idea what to do or say to her so I hadn't really wanted to intrude or push too hard or anything when I saw her.

"You called _Camille_?!" Robert repeated, pacing around the living room. "Why in God's name did you call Satan incarnate?!"

My mom's face went white and I knew she had some major insecurity surrounding Camille Devereux…

Rosalie's French once-a-supermodel mother hadn't shown up for her in years. She hadn't even shown up to her own daughter's wedding so if she'd shown up now… it was bad.

I hadn't missed that Robert called her Satan incarnate…

That was an insult to Satan the way he talked about her and the way she never showed up when Rosalie needed her. Until now.

Rosalie's mom was notoriously _absent_.

The one and only time Rosalie was actually super vulnerable with me, she called to tell me her mom hadn't shown up to pick up her wedding dress even though she'd flown to Paris to get a dress _specifically_ so her mom could be there…

Rosalie worked so hard that she had no friends and it was such a quick wedding that she sat in her wedding dress, drinking celebratory champagne _alone_ and on a long-distance phone call with me.

I knew in that moment, I didn't like Camille.

"I can't believe this…" Robert wiped a hand over his face, groaning in exasperation.

"He made reservations at Daniel..." Robert slammed his phone down on the table. "For _all_ of us."

"What?" My mom practically screamed and I sat up straight with a jolt.

"We should get ready." Robert mumbled. "Do you need a jacket, Edward? I can have someone bring you one."

"I don't have a dress. We're having dinner with your ex-wife and her new wife?! We aren't going to talk about this? What about-" My mom wailed, and I watched her bottom lip tremble as she began to stumble over her words of protest.

"Elizabeth." He snapped in finality, his hands coming to either side of his head like the world was too loud.

I paused and the room fell silent.

"The last time I saw my daughter, she was carried over the threshold and sat down in this chair like a sad little doll…." Robert started to cry and I had to look away.

This was gut-wrenching. I couldn't watch him get emotional like this.

"I watched Emmett not bat an eye as he brushed her hair behind her ears and picked up her fork and feed her like a baby…" Robert broke down and cried as he propped up on the dining room chair aforementioned. "Then, he just wanted to talk about politics like nothing was out of the ordinary."

I looked over at my mom who had also looked over at me, so we made a lingering pained eye contact.

"I can't even bear to _look_ at her like that, and he's been taking care of her _every second_ for the past month." Robert took a deep breath, clearing his throat. "So, _of course_ he called for backup."

He was rationalizing.

My mom looked absolutely paralyzed. She had no idea how to deal with him right now and I had no idea either.

Rosalie was the most important person to Robert, obviously, and her most recent tragedy had sent him over the edge. Or… maybe it was her extreme response to it, spiraling into a catatonic depression.

But, Emmett knew what he was doing and Rosalie would eventually be okay.

He pulled her out of a black hole once. He'll do it again.

Emmett had moved her into a gorgeous new apartment on Park Avenue so she wouldn't have to go back to where it happened. He had all of her clothes boxed up, all of the baby things stored away, so every single trace of the past six months was gone.

He was sharp and he was taking care of her the best way he knew how.

After retiring my law books and attempting to tame my hair, I put on a Burberry jacket Robert had fetched for me and donned a smart, polka dotted, bowtie that was all too fancy for my taste.

My mom tittered over her appearance until the very last second, insisting the dress wasn't fancy enough and that she hated the way she looked.

Robert was silent though as we got in the car and silent for the drive that just lasted a few minutes.

As we walked into the restaurant, I immediately knew who Camille was before I even got the hint.

My mom's sharp inhaling and Robert's lowered eyes were perfect indicators, but I would've known even without that.

She was blonde, of course; Her hair was a darker blonde than Rosalie's and was pulled back into a prim and proper low bun that was parted in the middle. She was dripping in expensive looking jewelry, rings stacked on every finger as she lifted a white wine glass to her berry colored lips.

Her features were sharp and just as dignified as her demeanor, and I saw Rosalie in some of her expressions. The way she held her skinny neck and shoulders made me 100% positive that she was snobby, stiff, and pretentious.

Camille sat next to a maternally round woman with long, flowing brown hair curled right past her shoulders that was dressed just as pretentiously, but much more conservatively.

Her wife, Diane.

Emmett and Rosalie had their backs to us as we approached.

I was nervous.

Robert stutter stepped and walked a little slower as Camille smiled a snake-like smile, her big blue eyes narrowing conceitedly.

Emmett turned over his shoulder and made eye contact with me first. He looked exhausted but he smiled and stood from his chair politely.

He shook Robert's hand, but Robert was already looking around his shoulder at Rosalie.

Emmett hugged my mom and she shot me a look.

When Emmett threw his arms around me, and clapped me on the back I knew the reason for the look.

He smelled _strongly_ of alcohol.

"I'm glad you could make it." He grinned and in the brief moment I caught his eyes I saw what a wreck he was.

He wasn't himself.

"Fashionably late of course, Robert." Camille said in a thick French accent, somehow still making her words sharp in the accent of one of the most beautiful romance languages.

I felt the tension in the air immediately.

"Oh, Rosalie…" Robert started, completely ignoring Camille and squirming past Emmett to put his hand on Rosalie's shoulder.

She slightly tilted her chin up and everyone watched her as she looked up with vibrantly-colored violet eyes and smiled a small, half-smile.

I was _not_ expecting this.

She looked okay.

"Darling…" Robert stroked her face, and I couldn't help but watch the way Emmett watched Rosalie.

That's what made it obvious she wasn't okay.

His eyes danced over her protectively, like she was teetering on the edge and he was ready to pounce forward and reach out to catch her as she fell.

I rounded the corner, and got a good look at Rosalie.

She looked too thin. She wore an elegant dress with a neckline that scooped off her shoulders and plunged down her chest to show off a pale pink pendant that was ostentatious but elegant. Her blonde hair was perfectly pulled back from her snowy pale face and she looked so calm and put together.

I was not expecting that, but I welcomed it.

My throat felt tight as I took the seat on Emmett's other side between him and Camille and everyone exchanged pleasantries. At a round table, I could see everything and everyone. My mom sat next to Diane and Robert sat on the other side of Rosalie.

"How did she?..." Robert looked at Emmett, but Emmett shook his head inconspicuously, policing the conversation not to include anything about Rosalie's well-being.

"You must be Edward, the step-brother." Camille addressed me, and I reached out to shake her hand, but she just placed her fingertips in mine limply like I was supposed to kiss her hand in an antiquated and condescending gesture. "How charming."

I chose to forego and settled into the chair next to her.

"Chanel." Robert noticed and Rosalie nodded softly.

I watched her face, marveling at just how cool and collected she looked when she was supposed to be a grade-A wreck. She looked absolutely regal, an iron queen that had seen a battle on her home front but remained unmoved.

"Obviously, Robert." Camille seemed to sigh patronizingly. "I take it you bought her that… _gaudy_ … necklace."

"It's padparadscha sapphire. It was once worn by a Romanian Queen." The corners of his mouth turned up as he looked at Rosalie but he knew Camille was insulting him. "Only the best for my princess."

This was going to be a long dinner.

Emmett pulled a glass of whiskey to his lips, snaking his arm around Rosalie protectively.

"Doesn't she look gorgeous?" He kissed her on the cheek and shifted his expression entirely to one of stifling positivity.

Everyone of course agreed, overcompensating their niceties.

Rosalie was stone still but smiled lightly.

"Edward," Rosalie's voice was weirdly calm, airy, and removed. "I've missed you."

Emmett's eyes magnetized to her face, obviously searching and trying to make sure she was okay, but as Rosalie looked at me, in the brief moment I caught her eyes I knew she was drowning.

Her eyes were glassy and harsh, but iced over like a tumultuous river in the dead of winter.

It was like a very scarily functional version of the way her eyes looked all those years ago when she'd first shifted from an innocent little girl into someone jaded and marked by personal tragedy.

But this time… it was worse. This time, it was full-fledged mind-numbing _denial_.

My heart started to race and I didn't know how I was going to respond to her. Before this, she was almost back to normal after the trial, and she was getting better every day, but I don't know how she was ever going to recover from _this_.

"I had to take a break from the books to see you." I smiled at her. " _And_ I had to dress up. You owe me…"

The corner of her mouth turned up slightly.

"Dinner's on us, Edward." Emmett winked, taking another drink.

"Well… On _you_ , until Rosalie gets back to work." Camille smiled smugly.

"And, _you_ might be washing dishes to balance the check since you've also been out of work for a month." Camille raised an eyebrow and sipped her wine.

"You still have some trust fund to dip into I hope." Camille joked but she definitely didn't know.

I winced.

"I grew up in the Post-Soviet so-called _special_ period of Cuba. I _definitely_ don't have a trust fund." Emmett fakely half-smiled as he ultimately let her walk all over him.

"Oh shame." Camille snickered under her breath with little to no remorse for what she'd said and how that could be rude.

Emmett would _never_ have let someone talk to him like that. He was scrappy and quick witted as long as I'd known him.

But… more than that, _Rosalie_ would never let someone talk to him like that. She'd once almost killed someone because they'd chuckled when Emmett mispronounced 'Missouri' at dinner and she knew that he was still self-conscious about his English after all of this time.

Rosalie didn't bat an eye.

This was bad.

Unlike Camille, Robert and Rosalie were never quick to flaunt their money though it was blatantly obvious that they had plenty of it. I had to hand it to him that Robert had raised Rosalie to be responsible and hard working despite her silver spoon status. No, she was rich enough to have a _platinum_ spoon…

I wondered how Emmett genuinely responded to Camille's flippant expression of affluence and how it was rubbing off on Rosalie.

He never talked about how he grew up conversationally, but I read a feature about him when he was named one of the 30 under 30 and it said vaguely that he'd come to America with _nothing_.

He fit in with the best of them on the Upper East Side now that he was dripping in wealth but I knew that look in his eye… We were both outsiders here.

"Rosalie's ready to get back to work." Camille announced. "Well… once she gets back into shape."

"She's _got_ to have some time, Camille." Robert snapped back as the waiter poured him a dry martini.

"You had a great meeting today didn't you, Rose?" Emmett brushed her cheek.

Rosalie nodded, still totally numb.

"She had a meeting? I think you're pushing her too-" Robert went on, his tone accusing as he looked over at Emmett.

"Why _wouldn't_ she go back to work, Robert?" Emmett's eyes widened asking the question ironically and rhetorically of course.

"You're _really_ going back to work?" Robert huffed.

Rosalie nodded slightly.

"I got her a meeting with Avery at Tommy Hilfiger." Camille said pompously.

"Who'd you have to sleep with?" Robert asked harshly.

Emmett tightened his arm around Rosalie and shot Robert a look.

"Robert…" My mom scolded softly.

Camille pushed her chin out defiantly, ignoring his question then looked at Rosalie and began speaking French to purposefully exclude the others.

It appeared to be very casual conversation, and Rosalie responded softly with just a few words, then as she shot her eyes down she seemed to ask her own questions.

I'd never heard her speak French though I knew she said she could.

Diane smiled, adding to the French conversation. It became apparent she didn't know any English.

The rest of us sat in an awkward silence as the waiter came around with the first course.

"How is she?" I managed to inconspicuously ask Emmett under my breath.

He turned to look at me with an odd expression in his eyes but picked up one of the millions of spoons. He knew which one to use, so I observed and did the same.

I saw how red his eyes were and how if you looked hard enough you could see what a disaster he was.

"Great." He ran a hand through his hair, as he lied to me before spiraling back to Rosalie.

"How are _you_?" I said, grabbing onto his arm, stopping him in his spiral.

"Fine." He inhaled swiftly.

"Are you sure?" I said, nodding toward his empty glass.

That definitely wasn't the first and that definitely isn't the last.

"Don't patronize me, Edward." He said assuredly, a fresh glass being sat in front of him.

"I'm not trying to…" I started, furrowing my brow. "It's just… I've never seen you like this and I want to make sure you're okay and-."

"Edward… I need you to stay in your lane." Emmett said, looking at me with fiery eyes like that was a threat.

"I just… I'm trying to help you." I tripped over my words as I looked away.

"Don't." He insisted strongly.

My throat was tight and I looked back over to him. His gaze hadn't faltered.

"Just… be here for Rose." He wiped a hand over his face slurring his words a little.

"What can I do?" I started, genuinely concerned.

"Don't acknowledge it. Don't talk about it. Don't ask her how she's doing. Nothing." Emmett commanded and I immediately felt uncomfortable.

"Am I clear?" Emmett lowered his voice. "She can't handle it."

"What are you talking about?" Rosalie asked with faint interest, but mostly just in an even, calm voice.

"I should ask _you_ that question." He turned, kissing Rosalie on the cheek and forgetting our conversation.

He smiled down at her like you'd smile at a kid that didn't understand the troubles that the adults were talking about at the kitchen table before you sent them back to their room to play.

"I don't know what you're saying but it all sounds beautiful in French."

She turned her cheek lightly, but ultimately accepted his kiss on the cheek.

"Just some things about work…" Rosalie picked at her food, and I saw Emmett noticed, but he didn't say anything.

"Edward and I were talking about law school." Emmett lied through his teeth.

Their exchange was perfectly normal and perfectly not emotionally charged.

"You can have any of my outlines if you need." He looked back at me, his eyes full of finality.

He said this for show, but Rosalie wasn't satisfied.

"Sure. Thanks." I mumbled.

Rosalie wasn't stupid and she knew we were talking about something private, maybe even talking about her, but she didn't seem to possess enough motivation to pursue it further.

As one plate was collected and another set down, the change created a new whirlwind in the air.

Conversation jolted awkwardly and stressfully as talks of châteaus and soirees filled the air.

Camille spoke a language that sounded a lot like English, but wasn't something I possessed any understanding of. She lived a lifestyle that I barely could imagine, and I saw a new layer to Robert and Rosalie as they talked about people and parties that sounded like they were making it up.

"Diane and I just had the most marvelous time in Santorini." Camille began with a gesture, and Diane took her hand sweetly. "Emmett said he and Rosalie went last autumn. Have you ever taken Elizabeth?"

Robert stiffened.

"No; she's never been." Robert responded.

"You used to love to sail." Camille pouted her rosy lips.

My mom's eyes darted down. Camille was ruthless.

Venomous without provocation.

"Until you got the Greek villa and the boat in a 400 _million_ dollar divorce." Robert was just as snarky and sharp.

Emmett almost choked on his whiskey and I was glad I hadn't had anything to choke on.

I felt sorry for Rosalie if her parents' banter now was any indication of how her childhood was.

"It _is_ a beautiful villa, and a beautiful boat." Camille smiled a sickly victorious smile.

Robert was fuming. She knew exactly how to get under his skin.

"We just had our home in the 8th redecorated, and I want Rosalie to come to Paris for a while." Camille announced, taking the momentum of change.

"She _can't_ go to Paris, Camille." Robert lashed out.

"Why?" Camille tilted her head slightly, her expression icy and cruel.

"Because she's not going anywhere with you how she is right now…" Robert started and Emmett dropped his fork with a clang, his eyes harsh in warning.

Emmett looked across the table with a gaze that silenced Robert. He policed everyone's conversations to make sure Rosalie was in a metaphorical bubble.

"What are you talking about, Robert?" Camille challenged.

"Camille _left us,_ Rosalie. She left when we needed her." Robert started, reaching for Rosalie's hand, taking it.

I think my mom was going to throw up.

"She didn't leave _us_. She left you." Rosalie said emotionlessly looking at him with glassy violet eyes.

"Rosalie!" I scolded out of a knee-jerk reaction, watching Robert's face fall as Rosalie retracted her hand.

She was vicious, and cold and I saw for the first time that she looked an awful lot like Camille.

"You're going to let her leave with _Camille_?" I asked Emmett with an accusing glance.

Emmett paused, his back stiffening. It was quiet for a long second and I tried not to get intimidated by his silence.

"I don't _let_ her do anything, Edward. She's an adult." Emmett's eyes were ablaze and he was seeing that he couldn't control conversation as much as he'd like.

Rosalie was left vulnerable as she looked over at us, her brow furrowing as she tried to process that we were arguing.

He took a long drink.

"You know what I mean." I retorted exasperatedly. "You can't possibly think this is a good idea to send her off to be transformed into her mother. She needs _real_ help."

"Edward, that's enough." My mom said shakily but I ignored her.

"If she wants to go to Paris for a while, she's going to Paris." Emmett said fierily.

He was just being blindly agreeable to Rosalie. He was coddling her.

"But…" Robert protested.

"She's leaving Monday. This is her send-off dinner." Emmett declared.

"How _dare_ you?" Robert looked over at Emmett with absolute betrayal in his eyes. "Camille can't take care of her. You would _know_ that if you were sober."

"Robert, please." My mom put her hand on Robert's arm and he took her hand supportively and agreeably.

My mom and I didn't belong here. This was a feud between their family and we had come to a gunfight with daisies.

I silenced, knowing reasoning with Emmett or Rosalie wasn't getting me through this one.

"But sweetheart, your birthday's coming up. Afternoon tea at the Palm Court? Those macaroons you love?" Robert stroked Rosalie's cheek but she withered away.

"There are plenty of macaroons in Paris, Robert." Camille took another drink of her wine.

"Camille…" I started and the whole table went quiet. " _When_ is her birthday?"

Camille's big blue eyes were panicked. She didn't know. It was just a stab in the dark but she really didn't know her own daughter's birthday.

"Edward!" My mom cautioned sharply.

Rosalie blinked, her bottom lip starting to tremble. She clenched her jaw and I saw her shoulders rise with tension, but she didn't cry.

Emmett put his hand on her shoulder and she exhaled, blinking rapidly as if she was trying to process her environment.

As I watched her, I started to get angry.

At what exactly, I don't know, but at almost 22 years old Rosalie shouldn't have to know the tragedy she knew now.

I don't know what in the universe chose her to go through everything she'd gone through.

She was just a kid.

Camille spoke some soft French, leaning forward slightly.

Rosalie looked away, taking a slow deep breath before responding in English.

"My birthday is on Halloween. And… I like lavender and honey macaroons best." Rosalie responded.

Rosalie was no more than a zombie. Her eyes were glassy.

She was never going to recover from this.

Why did she even want a baby in the first place?

Did she just want to be a mother because her own mother had been so bad that she wanted to make up for it? Did she want to fill that void? Did she not get enough of a childhood of her own? Did she want to leave modeling and just hoped for an easy way out?

Did she just want to make Emmett happy?

Why did she even put herself through this?

"Are you just passing her off to a babysitter?" I asked Emmett bluntly, not quietly enough for it to be a private conversation.

Emmett exhaled like he'd been holding his breath.

I remembered what he'd said about staying in my lane, but I just couldn't do it.

"Edward…" He cautioned, but I didn't falter.

"I'm about to have to work two months of 100 hour weeks to make up for all this." Emmett said softly, shifting into a private conversation.

"So you _are_ passing her off?" I asked.

"No. Edward. I just want her to do whatever it is she wants to do." Emmett spoke low and under his breath with a harshness that almost made me shiver.

"Moving to Paris for a little while is the first thing she's expressed interest in _in a long time_. She won't sleep. She won't eat. She won't take a walk in the sun. She won't look at me when I talk. She won't smile at things she used to. And… And if she wants to move to Paris for a little while that means she wants _something_ and if she wants _something_ that means she's alive and awake and not in a walking coma."

I didn't say anything.

"She's my wife, Edward." Emmett clenched his jaw. "And… God… I just want her survive this. I don't care what it takes."

My eyes darted down and my stomach dropped to my knees.

"Isn't this duck sublime?" Camille diverted seeming to indulge in the fact she sensed a tense conversation between us.

Emmett exhaled, and Rosalie shifted in her seat. He put his arm around her shoulders and she stiffened her back away from him.

It seemed like a tragic blaspheme against the institution of love for them to slip into a cold, removed relationship that would be the next manifestation of Robert and Camille.

"You can't leave, Rosalie." I said frankly, shifting to include her on this.

Rosalie's eyes focused on me as I pulled her into conversation, but she didn't seem to have any sort of emotional reaction.

"She's going." Emmett cut me off.

"Rosalie." I pleaded with her, ignoring Emmett and leaning across him.

I swear Emmett was going to use his steak knife to slit my throat, but I was on his side.

Rosalie's brow furrowed, but she didn't wrinkle that pristine, perfectly maintained demeanor.

"You can't." I repeated. "Rosalie, you're hurting and you need people around you that love you and can take care of you."

"I don't _get_ hurt, Edward." Rosalie's voice held a tinge of emotion and it rose in pitch slightly, but she still maintained. "And, I don't need to be taken care of."

Everyone's eyes were on her.

"Hey, don't start…" Emmett put his arm around her, watching her face, but it remained cool.

"Would you _stop_ it?" She finally pushed Emmett away coldly.

This was her breaking point.

"Rosalie…" He objected, his voice apologetic.

"I hate how you're treating me like I'm so _fragile_ all the time." She hissed, dramatizing her words with hand gestures. "I'm not."

Emmett paused, his eyes dancing over her face in bewilderment.

None of us wanted to get into this because by the looks on Rosalie's face, this was about to be a fight.

They _never_ fought and especially not publicly.

It made it even more awkward that everyone at the table was silently watching them, but no one could say a word over Rosalie and Emmett.

"I'm just _worried_ about you, Rosalie." He objected, his voice low.

"You _shouldn't_ be." Rosalie said unfeelingly. "You're always watching me and overprotecting me and…"

"I'm just trying to help you." He argued.

"You're _not helping_!" She finally snapped, her posture in attack mode as her voice rose. "The way you look at me like I'm about to break, the way you talk to me like one word is going to shatter me… That is _not_ helping."

"Then tell me what will!" His voice rose to match hers but was much more terrifying, taking everyone aback as he grabbed her hands and tried to get her to listen.

The way she looked up at him made me want to look away because it was too painful to watch.

Everyone else though in the entire restaurant, was staring. There was a long, awkward silence that followed because no one knew how to intervene.

Rosalie seemed to stumble over words, her eyes glassy as her brow furrowed.

"Say something. Anything. What do you need? What can I do? Talk to me. Please tell me what I can do for you." His voice was desperate and grasping.

She bit her lip, pulling away from him, her hands coming to cover her face like she was about to cry

"Rosalie," he reached out for her again and he pulled her hands from her face so she'd have to look at him.

"You don't understand." She growled.

"No, but Rose… I'm going through this too. I can't imagine how hard this is for you when it's _this hard_ for me." He was grasping.

"You can't fix _everything_!" Rosalie snapped viciously.

"But, I'm supposed to take care of you!" He fought with her. "I'm supposed to keep you safe and happy and… and I'm supposed to make sure you never hurt."

"You can't!" She seemed to be airing out his incompetence at this task and he looked fatally wounded.

"Rosalie, please…" Was all he could say, tracing his fingers over her cheek.

"I don't want to even _look_ at you!" She took a deep inhale, swatting his hand away and closing her eyes as she made her hands an impatient steeple over her nose and mouth.

"What are you saying?…" He pressed, holding her wrists tight as he reached for her hands.

"Let me _go_ , Emmett." She said, and her tone made it obvious that she didn't mean to let go of her arms.

She meant to let go of _her_.

"I want to leave!" He let her wrist go as she said this, and everyone was in shock, others from the restaurant beginning to stare as she walked out the front door.

Emmett watched her for a long second, and then decided to turn his back and sink back down to the table.

I kept my eyes down, and not even Camille had a snarky thing to say after that display.

I stood up to chase after Rosalie and he looked back at me with the most hopeless gaze I'd ever seen. It ripped my heart out.

"Emmett, if you let her go now, she's gone forever." I pleaded with him to intervene.

He just brought the glass to his lips – giving up on her like I'd never imagined he would.

Then, I realized I hated him for it.

* * *

 _Get ready for a Rosalie chapter next with the title: "The Day We Met" :) Also: for those of you interested in my Wanna Bet? story, I'm trying to come up with a final chapter that should be up by mid-June! Thanks so much!_


	9. Better

Thanks so much for your support and kind reviews! Your words are so special to me

* * *

 _Better – SYML_

 _And I know, and I know it's a different love_  
 _And I know, and I know that you make me better_  
 _It's a love that will keep me holding on_  
 _And I know, and I know we only get better_

 _I came into your picture such a broken fool_  
 _A million different pieces looking back at you_  
 _Believe me when I say this, I was giving up_  
 _But now you come and save me_

* * *

 _Rosalie: The Day We Met_

 _August, Seven Years Ago_

"Carlisle Cullen," he introduced himself, holding the lapels of his perfectly tailored suit and fixing his jacket as he sat in a cushy chair across the conference table.

He gestured for me to sit, across the table. His smile was warm but his eyes fierce so I looked away.

I sat down, tracing my hands across the mahogany as I pulled my chair closer to the table. I folded my hands in my lap, looking down at them. My nerve endings were electric. My heart was beating out of my chest.

"We've got the best minds in the continental U.S. working on this case" He spoke confidently, trying to assure me.

It almost worked.

I just nodded keeping my eyes down. My dad was looking at me, worriedly.

He still didn't know why we were here…

I remained stoic.

"This team is the best of the best and we –"

The door to the conference room opened swiftly, startling me. A young man stood at the door with a coffee and a stack of papers in one hand and a file folder in the other.

He had a pencil propped on his ear like an old-school journalist and a guilty smile on his face. He was strikingly handsome in an old-fashioned way. He had unruly, raven black hair and big amber-brown eyes that looked like melted caramel.

Dimples showed on his cheeks, making him appear childlike and rascally. He looked both at home and wildly out of place in a suit.

He was obviously younger than everyone else in the room other than a girl with fiery red hair and another man with dark hair and tanned skin that were about his age but didn't seem to be on his rank. Regardless of his youth, everyone seemed to react to him like he was in charge or that he was to be respected.

I looked down briefly, a faint blush on my cheeks.

"I'm sorry I'm late." He mumbled in a voice that was velvety and rough at the same time.

"Emmett McCarty." He introduced himself with a friendly, easy smile holding out his free hand to my father.

My dad stood, taking his hand enthusiastically, smiling nervously.

This is the man he'd brought me to see.

My dad had so much faith in this man and… I had to admit that I did too.

My stomach dropped when I thought I'd have to shake his hand. I'd have to let him touch me or awkwardly deny him my hand.

But, as if he'd read my mind, he retracted his own hand before even offering it to me, just giving me a polite nod, removed but still well-mannered.

I exhaled and relaxed as I felt a tiny tug upward on the corner of my mouth.

He bounded over to the empty chair next to Carlisle and I saw Carlisle's punishing stare as he watched him put his papers and coffee down.

"As I was saying…" Carlisle began again.

I was zoned in on the sound of Emmett's papers rustling, the sound of the lady beside him tapping her pen, the sound of another man down the row of chairs nervously bouncing his knees.

I heard every small sound. I felt every fiber in the chair I sat in and every stitch of the clothes that draped my body.

"Rosalie, baby?" I heard my dad say my name calmly and my focus elasticized back to the conference room.

Eyes were on me, pitying, sad, concerned.

I resented it.

I pulled on the end of my hair.

"We were talking about your testimony, Miss Hale." Emmett spoke up, his dark brown eyes, kind.

I bit my lip, pushing my hair behind my ears.

"If you're ready?" Emmett seemed to give me permission for the hollow feeling I felt in my stomach.

My voice was caught in my throat.

"I… I'm not ready."

"Rosalie," one of the other men pressed. "We need your testimony to get you ready for the witness stand."

I laced my fingers together, placing them in my lap, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, not budging.

I didn't want to talk about this with my dad here… I couldn't disappoint him like that.

This would crush him.

"It's okay, Miss Hale. We'll move on for now." Carlisle clicked his pen twice.

"Let's talk about your personal background a bit." He redirected.

"Don't leave out a detail, because the one detail you leave out will be exactly what the defense uses to…" The red headed woman, who was seated three seats down from Emmett's left said sharply.

I swallowed and shook my head.

"Why don't you tell us something about Rosalie, Mr. Hale? Just to open the floor, and have your daughter feel more comfortable." Carlisle prompted, interrupting her. "Help us understand her and how to have a jury identify with her."

"Well, Rosalie's always been such a good, sweet girl." He started and I didn't know why I was mortified, keeping my eyes down. "She's been homeschooled for a few years because she's working all the time so she's been… _sheltered._.."

Emmett was taking notes on a legal pad with his left hand, his head ducked.

"She's got a successful career and has been independent since she was little, but she's still just a kid… She's a sweet girl… so innocent…" My dad's voice was weird and I exhaled, looking away, cold.

"Who has also been called into question for being explicitly sexualized since she was twelve." The young woman with red hair read from some of her own notes. "She was posing _topless_ and in swimwear at _fifteen_ for the photographer she accused of raping her at the party she attended at his loft where she was _also_ underage drinking."

The oxygen was sucked from the room as she turned her iPad to show a photo taken of me taking a shot of tequila in a short dress, laughing and sitting on the counter in his house… where it happened...

I looked away like my eyes had been burnt out of my skull, my heart racing.

"And, your mother was known to have very _friendly_ relationships with her photographers to advance her own career." She pushed, and I felt like I'd been stung by a bee.

Everyone was staring at me to see how I'd respond.

My dad just covered his mouth and I pushed the box of tissues they had sitting in front of me to him.

I clenched my teeth and just sat up straighter, pushing my shoulders down, but keeping my eyes down on my hands while I heard my dad start to cry.

"Ms. O'Leary, you're out of line." Carlisle spoke up, his voice severe.

"This is exactly how the defense will target her, and she'll crack." She hissed.

No one could dispute that.

"No one on the jury is going to identify with-" She began gesturing to me with her long pale fingers like I was some sort of animal with a phenomenal deformity that should be made a spectacle.

"Well, it's my job to make them." Emmett turned on her, his voice passionate and heated.

"This isn't just courtroom theatrics, Emmett! This is -" The woman argued.

Carlisle banged his fist on the table interrupting her and I jumped.

My dad placed his hand on my shoulder lightly, but I flinched away.

"That's enough!" Carlisle's eyes were fiery.

"I need a break," I said.

The red headed woman stood up from the table. Emmett shot her a look.

"Rosalie?" My dad was still obviously upset.

I wanted to tell him in my own way and in my own time.

"I just need a second." I exhaled, pushing out of the door and barely making it to the bathroom before I broke down, tears flowing.

I hugged my knees to my chest as I sat in a locked stall, crying all the tears I could muster.

My stomach sunk and I unlocked the door, going to the sink to wash my hands and dab some cold water under my swollen eyes.

I heard some voices right outside the door, overhearing the conversation without even meaning to.

"You are probably one of the most delusional people I've ever met, Emmett." The young woman was hissing. "Look at this case for what it is."

"I am! Holy hell, Maggie." Emmett's voice rose in intensity.

"You should _not_ have taken this case." She insisted. "It's flimsy. It happened _six_ months ago."

I gripped the counter, my heart beating violently in my chest. I ducked my head, unable to look at myself in the mirror.

"Maggie, she's telling the truth." He said swiftly.

"I believe that, and yes it's terrible, but you're not exactly new to this. You know how cases like this pan out. She doesn't have _any_ evidentiary support. No rape kit, no outcry, no witnesses… So can you prove beyond reasonable doubt that she was raped?"

" _Look_ at her, Maggie." Emmett seemed to plead with her. "That look in her eyes, it's beyond reasonable doubt... We'll find _something_ to build this case on. "

I reluctantly looked up to my reflection. My eyes were hollow and grey. My skin was bone white. My lips were colorless.

I terrified myself and I shot my eyes back down to the floor, wiping away tears with the back of my sleeve.

"Em, I get it, but he's rich and powerful. We've seen this before. He's going to pressure her into recanting her accusations or he's going to pay her off."

"I know…" Then he cursed under his breath and I tried to manage the hitch in my breathing.

"We've got to make her strong enough she won't recant." Emmett went on.

"I think your heart's in the way, Em." Maggie sighed. "Like always."

I heard their shoes on the floor to signal that they'd moved.

I was ruined and it was stupid of me to have even thought that telling someone could make me feel better. So far, it was just worse. I tugged on the neck of my sweater.

He was going to get away with this.

I shut my eyes tightly, squeezing the edges of the sink tighter, making my wrists sore. A deep exhale left my lips in a sad wind.

I opened my eyes and opened the door turning down the hall and back toward the conference room.

"You're in good hands you know." A velvety voice said from behind me.

I felt my muscles tense and my hands ball into fists as he caught to walk beside me.

Emmett was tall - _extremely_ tall - and his shoulders were broad enough to make me feel small even at 5'9" and in heels. His presence didn't scare me, but my stomach was in my throat so I just nodded, keeping my eyes low.

"I was number one in my class at Harvard." He told me, a spring in his step as he kept up with my pace. "Maggie just went to Yale."

He rolled his brown eyes playfully, scoffing.

I smiled softly.

"Really, don't let anything she says shake you. She can be a pessimist because she's just really… _by the book_ on a lot of things."

"And you're an optimist?" I challenged lightly.

I don't know how optimism would help me now.

He smiled a childlike smile, amused, but he shrugged.

"No, I just trust in the truth." His voice was incredibly sincere and authentic, but then he cleared his throat changing to a more confident and removed tone. "And I know I'm very good at what I do. I'm a very good attorney."

"I would hope so." I smirked a little, feeling hollow.

He didn't know how to respond.

"Do you want some coffee?" He suggested awkwardly.

I shook my head.

"Thank you."

I took a chance and looked up at him, my heart beating out of my chest.

"I have a joke for you." He grinned, childish dimples appearing on his cheeks.

I blushed and looked away again.

"Why won't sharks attack lawyers?"

Emmett paused, chuckling a little before delivering the punch line.

"Professional courtesy." His smile stretched from cheek to cheek, genuine, authentic warmth in his eyes.

I bit my lip, but the corners of my mouth turned up a bit.

"That's terrible," I whispered as he opened the door for me.

"But you smiled?" He smirked, challenging me.

I shrugged.

"Professional courtesy." I responded wittily and he smiled a full million-watt smile.

"Wow, okay." He nodded, seeming to be impressed. "You got jokes?"

"Mine don't come printed on candy wrappers, so you wouldn't know any."

"Ouch." He stumbled back dramatically holding his heart, but couldn't help but laugh.

He had a contagious laugh - free, childlike, and open. I smiled lightly as we entered the room, Maggie trailing just behind us.

"You seem like you're in a better place to talk, Rosalie." She said lightly, smiling a painted on smile.

I sat down on the opposite side of the table and my dad looked up at me with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen.

"Who did this to you, baby?" He asked, his eyes red so I knew he'd been crying.

"Dad," I protested lightly.

"I'm so sorry," He said with a strained, high pitch to his voice, reaching out for me, but I flinched away and that just made him more upset.

"Now, let's talk about your testimony." Carlisle began, thankfully distracting from my bumbling father. "I want to make sure you're prepared on the stand to be cross-examined. I just got a call while we were on break that he lawyered up and… Irina Denali is the most ruthless defense attorney in the country..."

Emmett snorted, rolling his big brown eyes. Maggie exhaled dramatically like Carlisle was grossly underselling this woman, Irina.

My heart dropped and I felt hopeless, a sour taste in my mouth as I tried to keep my breathing calm.

"Rosalie, baby?" My dad leaned forward, reaching out for my hand.

I retracted and he froze.

His gut reaction when comforting me was to touch me, and that was exactly what I couldn't even begin to stomach right now. It was like my skin had turned to an open sore, on fire with even the threat of contact.

I swallowed, noticing a tear starting down my cheek.

"He's going to get away with this, isn't he?" I breathed and the room was eerily quiet until Emmett spoke up.

"Over my dead body will that happen, Miss Hale." Emmett said confidently and with an edge to his voice that let me know that phrase wasn't meant as a hyperbole to him.

"Emmett," Maggie seemed to scold him for making promises to me.

Would they be empty promises? Would Royce King II get away with what he did to me?

"I… I just…" I was nervous.

I looked around at all the eyes staring at me in anticipation.

"We're building a case with the detectives and they're speaking to him and Irina this afternoon." Carlisle let me know. "We're moving forward with the prosecution and ultimately his arrest, but we're still building a case."

I felt sick.

"Rosalie," Emmett used my first name informally, both of his hands on the table in front of him, open.

I looked up at him, our eyes meeting in a way that made me trust that he wasn't making me empty promises.

He would fight for me.

I exhaled shakily.

"I want you to believe that I will do everything I can for you in that courtroom." His amber-brown eyes were burning into mine, but I didn't look away.

I just nodded.

"We're here today to build your case, frame it for the jury, and make sure you're prepared so you won't feel blindsided by anything the defense will throw at you when you get in there." Emmett told me, his voice strong and assured.

"O-okay." I swallowed.

"When you leave today, we want you to feel confident on the stand, because we all believe you. We just need the judge and jury to." He said.

I felt my bottom lip begin to tremble, but I didn't look away from his eyes.

"Now, let's talk about when you're called to the stand." His voice was calm and made me feel more at ease. "I will protect you from witness badgering as much as the judge allows, but you've got to be strong. He will be in that room with you and try to intimidate you. Denali will try to rip you to shreds and make you doubt everything you know to be true. This is why it's important we hear your testimony now and build your Victim Impact Statement."

Everyone's eyes were staring straight into me, and I wrung my hands in front of me for what seemed like a long silence.

"Can I just… just talk with _you_?" My voice was soft and unsteady but I noticed how oddly comfortable he made me feel compared to the others and how much better it would be just to tell one person instead of ten.

There was something about him that was just _easy_ , and he seemed to understand what I felt comfortable with before I even knew myself.

The room fell silent at my request, and Emmett looked back at me with sincerity.

"I mean… you're the one with me in the courtroom, right?" I swallowed, my eyes darting down before meeting his big brown eyes again.

I was second-guessing this.

I'd have to be alone with him.

"Sure. We'll take the room." He nodded at Carlisle confidently and the rest of the attorneys began to gather their papers and stand from the table without a word until they crossed the threshold and burst into tittering whispers.

"Do you need me?" My dad asked with desperation in his eyes but I shook my head.

"Th-thank you." He started to cry again and Emmett stood up politely as my father exited the room with his eyes lingering on me with pity and gloom that I despised.

Emmett left the door open on purpose to make me comfortable being alone with him without me having to ask before coming back to the table where his notes sat across from me.

I exhaled, my heart starting to race and I noticed silent tears were streaming down my cheeks.

"You can trust me, Rosalie." He said, not looking at me, as he shuffled some papers. "I'm on your side."

"Okay." I said, feeling a catch in my throat.

I think I believed him.

I blushed, hating that he knew how terrified I was.

He spun casually in the chair, making him look even more youthful and lighthearted.

It put me at ease.

He stopped spinning, and took a deep breath. I felt my heart in my throat.

"In order for us to be a good team, I need you to trust that I'll take care of you and that I'm never giving up on you." Emmett prompted, this time looking into my eyes. "Can you do that?"

I nodded with sincerity.

There was something about him that made me trust him.

"And, I need to trust that you're as strong as I think you are." He looked at me with serious, vast eyes.

There was something about the way he looked at me that was different than the way any man had ever looked at me before.

I'm sure he noticed I was beautiful, but Emmett looked at me like he saw me on a subterranean level. He looked at me like he knew me. He looked at me like he believed in what he saw. He looked at me like he thought I could do anything in the world.

"Are you?" He pressed, and I felt my heart begin to race in a new way – not like when I was afraid. "- as strong as I think you are?"

"Stronger." I looked into his eyes with intention, because I knew I could never lie to him.


	10. Unfinished Business

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR FEEDBACK, SUPPORT, AND REVIEWS! Special shoutout to LizziePaige for the feature! I appreciate you sharing my words with more people!

I wanted to say how much it means to me to be able to share words with you, and how much it means when you share your stories with me. I treasure all of your feedback in my heart and I can't elaborate enough on how it warms my soul to hear from you in your reviews and messages.

Notes (beware this is VERY RAMBLY hahah) I wanted to clarify/ answer a few general questions I've gotten in reviews and messages. First, the timeline issue of chapter 2 is that I had initially written, "Valentine's Day" and changed it to Independence Day in Edward's final dialogue about when the birth control mishap actually happened.

The actual dinner as outlined in Chapter 2/3 takes place in September and that is where our "present" timeline is. Also: I hope that as the story progresses you'll be able to fall in love with my own adaptations of Stephenie Meyer's characters and see their motivations and complexities like I do. I am not a professional writer, or even a professional storyteller, but there are stories in my head that are just begging to be told. Sometimes, I don't even understand my characters as they speak to me until I keep listening to them and learn about who they really are.

But, just to start some dialogue about character development you'll see through the rest of the story: no one can prepare for how they'll respond/ react to tragedy and in my understanding - Rosalie is one of the most complicated, complex, mysterious characters and even more so than even I can imagine sometimes. I do want to emphasize that she is still in such a transformative part of her growth process and this is why sometimes I write her second-guessing herself in a way that isn't always obvious. In my mind and because of my own experience, Rosalie doesn't want to fawn over Alice's children because she doesn't really have a maternal instinct for anyone else's children, but knows that she will for her own. I often tell people 'I don't like anybody else's kids, but I know I'll love my own' because I DREAM of my own one day, but can't bring myself to hold my friends' kids. This is kind of how I picture Rosalie's own experience with her maternal side. She knows it will blossom as soon as she has her own. However, on a deeper note, she also doesn't involve with Alice's kids because she is afraid of failing at it. She "failed" when she lost her own baby, and she is extremely insecure about not being a good mother which can be seen when Jane begins to cry in Rosalie's arms, sensing her insecurity and fear. Rosalie also doesn't want to let herself realize that Harper would be just a little younger than what her own baby would be at this point. As Rosalie looks at Harper, she sees what she lost, and in the point of denial she's at right now, she's grown good at keeping routine and disengaging with things that might trigger her.

Also, Rosalie's in her early twenties, but she had to grow up faster than anyone else in the story because of her career, her absent mother, her tragic assault, etc. She had to become more mature than everyone around her and take care of herself, but she still lapses into that insecurity of not knowing who she is because she had to build this identity so fast and is sometimes unsure of it. However, this is most importantly not something she can talk about with anyone... Everyone around her is older, her father is also a sort of boss and connector to her career, and her mother/ female leader is notoriously absent - so I think Rosalie feels that she has to pretend she knows who she is and has it all together because everyone around her seems to already know and seems to already have it together... Her character is also not known for her vulnerability so her coping mechanisms get dicey.

As Emmett's character develops in the chapters to come, I hope you fall in love with him like I am! I think this is my favorite version of him I've ever written and I can't wait to get more into his story as we progress! Though, I know he's a difficult pill to swallow now, please give him a chance! I want his character arc to be dirty and awful and raw and REAL because I think that's who he is and WHY he is the way he is. First, I think Emmett's protectiveness comes as a reaction to his desire for control of the world around him. This can be translated into a dark way as we are seeing manifested currently, but in my view of him - I think it came from the fact he grew up in such an unstable environment and he feels that when he can control the world around him, that equals _safety_. The tragedy he and Rosalie experienced together was something way beyond his control and his coping mechanism is to try to find that point of balance and _safety_ again. In many ways, this makes him as much in denial as Rosalie because he refuses to acknowledge that he can't control it, he can't understand it, and he can't fix it. In my eyes, he is just as broken as Rosalie - if not more because he hates to watch her hurt in this way - but he is the first person to try and fix it for everyone else. This is why he allowed the dinner to happen on that night: he doesn't want change within the group of friends he's used to being around and cause any disruption in routine for Rosalie to make her think about what happened. If they all have dinner every Tuesday, he wouldn't request it to be on a Thursday because he wants to keep everything in order and keep the "ordinary day" charade so Rosalie wouldn't remember. He wants to believe that everything's fine if you don't acknowledge it. Everything's great. Everything can be controlled, and censored, and monitored.

As far as the age gap between Emmett and Rosalie: it's not just because it makes the timeline fit together better when he is her attorney hahaha, but it has a bigger purpose in the development of their characters. Without ruining too much I will say that Emmett had a _very_ different growth experience than Rosalie, and while in a lot of ways left them very similarly damaged, Emmett's experience of transitioning out of childhood was very different. Emmett had to pick up and move into the country as he was beginning his teenage years. He had to in essence start over completely. He had to learn a new language and new culture, and live in a new world with a new family right as he was supposed to be transitioning into adulthood. I imagine his transition is very difficult and it is hinted at in the way Rosalie knows he is still self-conscious about his English.

In all the ways Rosalie's maturity had to accelerate, Emmett's was stunted. This makes them perfect opposites to one another to highlight this stark difference and create such an interesting couple. (At least I hope so.)

I'm sorry for running off on a tangent. I just wanted to open the floor and do some character background that might be helpful in understanding what's going through my mind! I'd love to know what you think!

I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Without further ado, here's chapter 10 _Unfinished Business_ in Emmett's point of view.

* * *

 _Unfinished Business – Mumford and Sons_

 _I broke down in horror at you standing there_  
 _The glow from the moon shone through cracks in your hair_  
 _I shouted with passion "I love you so much"_  
 _But feeling my skin, it was cold to the touch_  
 _You whispered "Where are you?"_  
 _I questioned your doubt_  
 _But soon realized you were talking to God now_

 _But you've got blood your hands and I know it's mine_  
 _I just need more time_  
 _So get off your low, let's dance like we used to_  
 _And there's a light in the distance, waiting for me_  
 _I will wait for you_  
 _So get off your low, let's kiss like we used to_

* * *

 _Emmett: The Day Everything Was on Fire_

 _Tonight, After Dinner_

"Rosalie…" I called after her as she stormed into the other room. "Rosalie, _stop it_!"

"What?" She screamed. "Stop what?!"

"Stop... _scaring_ me." I begged, my heart pounding as I watched her rampage.

"You want me to face the truth? Not live in denial? Well, guess what, Emmett, _this_ is the truth." She growled, opening and closing drawers, cabinets, and boxes seeming to be searching for something.

Then, she found it. In the back of the hall closet.

"Our baby is _dead_." Rosalie whirled around, her violet eyes red and crazy and I ducked like she was going to throw something.

Again…

The scar above my left eye was barely visible now, but I still remember the blank way she stared at me when she watched me bleed from that glass she'd hurled. I'd pulled my hand from my eye, blood on my fingers and my mouth open in absolute shock at what she did. She had distantly clenched her jaw and turned her back on me unfeelingly. _That_ was the most painful part of it all.

"Our _one_ chance…" She growled, clenching her hands into fists angrily.

"She's dead. She's _been_ dead. You've been drunk and I've been in denial _for a whole year_." Rosalie's voice got higher and higher pitched.

It was scaring me.

She'd had many outbursts over the last few months, but most of them were wordless and directionless.

 _This_ was terrifying.

I held on to the tops of her shoulders, but she wriggled against my grip like a wild animal trying to escape, growling and fighting against me.

I finally let her go and she ripped open a box of baby clothes in the very back of the hall closet that I'd purposefully hid from her.

I swallowed, just watching her implode.

"We won't need _these_ anymore." She said, her voice manic as she clicked on the gas fireplace and tossed item after item in there.

"Rosalie…" I stood by and watched her as she paced, pale pink frills turning into black ashes in the fireplace.

She dumped a box of cards and letters of congratulations into the flames, and finally she held the ultrasound picture in her hands.

"I don't need that," She mumbled witlessly, throwing more baby trinkets into the growing flames. "Or that,"

"We might as well burn this whole closet," Rosalie's eyes danced over the books on motherhood she'd collected, tossing some of them over her shoulder and into the flames.

"And, we should burn my childhood things too. I'm never going to get to pass them on." Rosalie went on, her voice rough as she picked up a pink smocked dress she'd worn as a child from a box on her left, throwing it into the fire.

"Rosalie, stop." I begged. "You don't want to do this."

"What _else_ can we do with this?!" Rosalie threw a picture frame that shattered on the floor and she began to cry, stumbling and babbling over words as she continued her rampage.

The fire jumped and if she wasn't careful she'd burn herself.

"Rosalie!" I grabbed her wrists urgently and yanked her back.

She flailed, fighting against her sobs that broke me to my core.

"We're always gonna be _alone_!" She wailed, growing tired of fighting me.

"Hey, calm down." I pushed, still holding tight to her wrists so she wouldn't hurt herself.

"Calm?!" She sobbed. "I can't be calm. I can't – I can't. No!" She was breathlessly weeping as she fell to her knees in front of me.

"Please don't… I'm sorry…" The heels of her hands pressed into her eyes as she tried to catch her breath unsuccessfully, hunching her shoulders forward. "I can't. I can't. I'm sorry."

I clenched my teeth, looking away from her for a sharp moment, to try and keep it together as she sobbed on her knees in front of me.

She was more broken than she'd ever been. The wound was open and fresh.

"Rose… Angel…" I started, turning back toward her and kneeling so I was down in the floor with her.

She collapsed into my arms, her head on my chest as she kept trying to catch her breath from all the crying.

"Rosalie." I said softly, stroking her hair with one arm and holding her up with the other.

"Rosalie, hey listen to me." I kissed her forehead.

She shot up to a sitting position, anger in her eyes as she choked on a sob.

"I forgot what you smelled like before you started smelling like whiskey." She cried.

"I forgot what your eyes looked like when you were really behind them." I said in irrational retaliation as she covered her face, continuing to cry, her eyes wide and her hand shaking as we both stood.

She was gasping for breath between sobs and she backed up from me slowly and tentatively until her back hit the wall.

"Rosalie… Hey, I'm sorry. You're gonna be okay." I reached out for her.

"No!" She screamed, her arms swatting at me. "I'm not!"

"It's okay. You're gonna be okay." I grabbed on to her wrists, but how hard she was fighting me, I knew it'd leave a bruise if I held onto her any longer so I let her go and she continued her tear through the room, pacing.

"I did everything right. I did everything… _right_!" She spoke so fast she was barely intelligible. "I didn't break any rules, not even once."

I watched her protectively as she panicked, running her hands through her hair and holding the sides of her head like it was going to explode.

" _Not even once_ …" She repeated, breathing heavily.

She wasn't making any sense.

"Rosalie, angel, what are you talking about?" I spoke softly.

"That _soda_!" She shrieked, throwing another picture frame to the ground, shattering glass everywhere.

I understood immediately.

She propped herself up against the wall, sliding her back down until she was sitting down, sinking her forehead to her knees as she wept, hyperventilating.

"I did everything right. I swear. I did." She looked up at me with an odd emotion… Shame.

"I know." I said, kneeling down in front of her, putting my hands on her knees.

"I'm sorry. I tried." She looked away from me, stuttering over a sob.

"Hey, I know you did." I tucked her hair behind her ear, but she still wouldn't look back at me.

"I'm so sorry..." She said in barely a whisper, hiccupping on a cry in her throat as she pushed me away.

"Rosalie, let me help you." I insisted gently, ignoring her reservation and leaning in.

"I'm sorry." She wept, that deep indignity in her eyes.

"What are you sorry for? You have nothing to be sorry for, baby." I acknowledged her repeated phrase, tenderly taking her angel's face in my hands.

She couldn't even find breath to form words as she sobbed.

"Rosalie..." I wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to allow her to find some sort of peace.

"All I wanted was to start a family with you." She cried, tilting her chin down. "And… and be happy."

I stared into the fireplace, wondering if she was always doing this just for me. If Edward was right and I'd made her into this person, I'd made her cry. I'd made her broken.

She wasn't ready and I'd pushed her.

"It hurts. It hurts. Please - Please make it stop." She sobbed relentlessly, her head falling back down to her knees.

I clenched my teeth together, heartbroken I couldn't do anything for her - yet again.

She pushed her hands into her chest like her heart was going to explode out of it and I felt my breathing quicken as I watched her.

"I don't know what to do, Rosalie." I finally said. "I don't know what to do for you."

I felt the threat of tears in my own eyes as I looked back down at her.

She had her hands clutched around her stomach like her insides were ripping out as she sobbed.

"I don't know what to do." I finally admitted again, telling the truth to her and to myself.

I couldn't fix this. I couldn't.

"I don't want to be alone." She wailed, barely understandable.

I found a few tears had escaped from my own eyes now, so I looked away from her.

"I should've never let you go to Paris alone." I told her, trying to pull it together as I cradled her to my chest.

"I had to. I only went to Paris because I couldn't even _look_ at you…" She broke down, crying into her hands. "I didn't want to go… I missed you. I needed you, but I couldn't look at you… B-because it hurt so much to know I couldn't do this for you…"

I felt sick.

"Because I failed and… Because I knew she was going to have your eyes… I _couldn't look at you_ because all I saw was… was _her_."

"Oh, Rosalie…" I exhaled, letting go of her so we were sitting side by side now our backs against the wall.

Her tears now ran dry and she didn't resist my arm as it snaked around her shoulders, pulling her to my side.

I didn't say anything for a long while, just let her cry into my shoulder as we sat together against the wall.

"I've been so scared." Rosalie finally said in a breathy sigh.

"What are you scared of?" I asked, brushing her hair off her face as she stayed closer to me than she'd been in a year.

"I'm scared of losing you." She spoke softly.

I let my arm wind around her to squeeze tighter, aching as I looked into her desperate eyes.

"You're never losing me." I assured her, but didn't know if that would be enough. "I promised you it's you and me, Rose. Always you and me."

Her eyes searched over my face anxiously.

"I just… I just don't want you to feel…. _deprived_ because-because you're with _me_ and I can't do this with you. I want to. I want to so badly I can't stand it. I… I'm so sorry." She sobbed.

"Rosalie!" I was greatly offended by her words, but even more troubled that she could even think that. "Rosalie, no. Don't say that."

"P-please…" She gasped, fresh fear in her eyes. "Please don't leave me."

"I'm _never_ leaving you." I brushed her hair away from her beautiful face, kissing her nose then her lips, tasting her tears.

She didn't kiss me back, but she let me pull her closer.

"I love you, Rosalie." I kissed her again and again. "You are my sun, my stars, my moon, my world, my heart. I _love_ you. Surely, you know that. Surely you remember that."

The way she cried shifted from pained to cathartic and I pulled away to look in her violet eyes.

"Please try. Try to remember."

As I held on to her face, her cries began to shallow and slow. She focused on my eyes and I saw the change in her.

She was in there… She was _fully_ in there.

"Rosalie, it's okay." I was careful.

She breathed deeply, and I slowly dropped my hands.

"It's okay. Breathe." I said.

Rosalie's teeth were gritted so hard that her jaw trembled as she looked up at me letting out a cacophonous string of tortured sounds that sounded stifled in the way they jumped out of her rapidly rising and falling chest.

Every ounce of her pain was threatening to burst through the dam so perfectly constructed to hold it back. It was faltering. It was crumbling.

"That's it, Rose." I exhaled with her, guiding her.

Her eyes were dark but full as she continued looking at me like she hadn't in so long.

"It's okay..." I nodded, keeping my hands on her tense shoulders as she put her shaking hands on mine.

Her entire body was tight like she was holding her breath before she let out a stifled, growling scream that was labored, like she was lifting a heavy weight and her hands contorted, clawing into my arms.

Through it all, she kept looking at me, clinging to me with her gaze as I sat in front of her. I wasn't breaking eye contact so she knew I wasn't going to get scared off.

No matter how much this was ripping me apart to see just how low she could fall, I wasn't scared. I wasn't going anywhere – not even for a fleeting second because I could bear the weight of her burdens when she couldn't.

"Rosalie, baby, it's okay." I told her, kissing her forehead as she gasped in the pain of her heartbreak.

I let her go on like this for a few minutes, though it killed me to do so.

She was in pain, but she was getting better. Like alcohol in a wound.

As her screams turned into heavy sighs, I stroked her cheek, her own hands falling to her sides – exhausted.

"Rosalie, it's okay." I kissed her face again and again.

She tried to catch her breath after her screams subsided, and I hovered my hand over her shoulders, being careful, but she relaxed into my touch, exhaling and closing her eyes as she leaned forward, touching her forehead to mine.

"Are you okay?" I changed my words and this time, she hiccuped on a sob.

"No." She breathed before touching her lips ever so softly to mine.

I froze, taken aback by her action, and unsure of how to process or proceed.

"But, it has to get better." She said in a raspy tone from all her screaming.

"Rosalie, it's you and me. And that's _always enough_ for me." I told her as I pulled away to look at her sweet, beautiful face. "Do you understand that?"

Her bottom lip trembled as her eyes danced over my face.

"Emmett?" She started in a small, shaky voice.

"What is it?" I kissed her forehead.

"I want that to be enough for me too, but it isn't." She admitted, finding my eyes and locking her gaze in mine with iron tethers. "I'm sorry."

I swallowed, my heart beating out of my chest as I remained unable to respond.

"I want to have your babies, Emmett. I want to… so badly." She clenched her fingers into fists, closing her eyes and tilting her chin up.

She opened her eyes, looking to me with those beautiful orbs.

Then, she pulled back to climb into my lap, a knee on either side of my hips.

I looked up at her still silently, as she settled into our proximity.

"I just want you to be happy." I said with a lump in my throat as I touched her face.

A little more than two years ago, I'd asked her what she thought about starting a family. She had looked at me with wide, nervous eyes, but had smiled and blindly agreed that we should. We didn't know what future stretched out before us...

I wanted a family, but now, that want was greatly eclipsed by my desire for Rosalie's happiness. I only wanted _her_ to be mine again.

My eyes searched hers as she started to speak again.

"I want that feeling again. I crave it..." She raved, gesturing animatedly. "Your child inside of me, _inside_ of _me_..."

She placed her hands on her stomach looking up as if she was talking to God.

"It was something cosmic, celestial, mystical, _divine_ …" Rosalie's words made my heart ache, but in a purifying, therapeutic way. "It didn't feel _real_."

I watched her face, seeing the emotion and pleading in her prayers as her eyes slowly fell back to earth and her fingers curled around the emptiness of her womb and fell down to her sides.

I still couldn't say a word, until I realized I was looking at her in admiration, respect, wonder.

I was in awe of her.

The scales surrounding her fell away little by little to reveal her lovely face again, and the light behind her eyes that had long ago been snuffed out.

She unfurled her wings like a new butterfly and reached out a trembling hand to trace her fingers along my cheek.

The contact of her skin left a trail of warmth along mine before she finally let her wide, beautiful violet eyes close as she took a deep breath.

Time seemed to freeze as she tilted her chin to press her lips to mine.

Her kiss was delicate, but unreserved in a way that her kisses hadn't been in an eternity.

She deepened the kiss, and I put my hands on her, reveling in the feeling of the curves of her body under my fingers.

Rosalie pulled away just enough to put a centimeter between our lips.

"But this does. _This_ feels real."

The words were simple, but they enveloped me like the sea, warmed by a day of sunshine.

She pulled away to look at me and _see_ me for the first time in a long time.

"I love you." She said softly, starting to cry again before she wrapped her arms around me and let me hold her.

"God, Rosalie, I love you too." I exhaled, closing my eyes and pressing my hands into her back.

I inhaled the scent of her, loving to have her back, and to have her close.

"I missed you." She said, mumbling into my shoulder and I felt some of her tears splash on my skin.

"We're together now." I said, turning to kiss her cheek.

"I want us to make it work." Rosalie's eyes were wide as she looked over my face for my response.

I nodded. Of course.

"But, we can't do it alone. We need help." She said solemnly, searching for my reaction. " _I_ need help. I want to be myself again."

"I do too." I swallowed.

She sighed, looking away from me.

"I have no idea where to start." Rosalie inhaled sharply, and the shame returned to her eyes. "I feel so far gone."

"You're right here. You're not gone." I took her face in my hands, feeling myself shaking a little at how unfamiliar this moment was.

"I've been so... heinous. You must be so disappointed in me." She shrugged out of my embrace.

"Rosalie, stop talking like that." I willed her. "I'm not disappointed in you."

"Do you even recognize me?" She asked in a tortured breath.

I didn't know what to say. My eyes darted down.

" _Look_ at me." She pressed softly. "Do you recognize me?"

As she stood in front of me, I looked her over, taking in the precise details of her face and body. After what felt like both an eternity and a millisecond, I told her my verdict.

" _Yes_." I said confidently, taking her hands in mine now. "I could recognize your face from a million miles away and in a coma. You are my wife, and the love of my life. You are Rosalie Devereux Hale and you're still the strongest woman I've ever met."

She closed her eyes, inhaling.

"I fell in love with you a _long_ time ago." I told her, and her long black eyelashes fluttered open to reveal her violet eyes again. "But I _never_ forget the reasons why."

Her eyes darted over my face, searching, and I thought a saw a spark of light in them.

"And... you give me new ones every day."


	11. All Comes Down

_WOW! Thank you so much for the support and love! I am overwhelmed with thankfulness and can't wait to keep continuing with the story. Last chapter really was a labor of love and ripped my heart out to write, but I am so thankful for art so we can tell stories and create outlets like this. I appreciate each and every one of you that shares in this experience! I have loved this journey and cannot wait to keep telling the stories in my head._

 _Another special thanks to LizziePaige for sharing my story with others!_

 _I want to get this chapter out and really explore the relationship between Edward and Rosalie and Edward and Emmett in the next few chapters. I will return to Rosalie and Emmett centric chapters, but the next two will really help in connecting Edward and explaining his passionate reaction at dinner as well as the wedge between Rosalie and Edward/ Emmett and Edward in the first few chapters._

 _I know this is a little longer than what I usually write, I just had a lot to say! Thanks so much!_

 _I'd love to hear any of your reactions and can't wait to read your reviews and thoughts!_

 _xoxox!_

* * *

 _All Comes Down - Kodaline_

 _But why do I feel so old?_  
 _'Cause I'm still so young_

 _It all comes down to you_

 _If you see it_  
 _Why couldn't you do it_  
 _And you're so alone tonight_  
 _It's heartbreaking,_  
 _The road you choose and God wouldn't save you_

 _Love is a battle oh_  
 _Everybody cries_

* * *

 _ **Edward: Rosalie and Rosary**_

 _Present - September, The Morning After Dinner_

"I'll get it." Bella said, taking another quick bite of her breakfast before hopping up from the table to grab the door.

It must be a package she didn't want me finding out about. She was terrible at surprising me, but her Amazon orders weren't exactly discreet.

I downed my coffee, scrolling through the New York Times app for highlights, but my mind was far from my screen.

It had taken a long time for Bella and I to wind down last night after such a tumultuous dinner, but even then, we were both restless the entire night. I'd watched Bella toss and turn as she mumbled in her sleep and it just broke my heart. She had cried in her sleep, and though she was mumbling unintelligible things, I knew she was strongly affected by the night's events.

Rosalie and Emmett had infected her like a cancer...

I don't know what I was thinking trying to force a relationship with Rosalie after all of this – after all we'd been through. I couldn't believe I'd been so optimistic and naïve to believe that she would remember she was my little sister and be happy for me and the girl that had changed _everything_ for me. I wanted Rosalie to be a part of this family I'm starting. I wanted Emmett to be a part of this family, but it looked like it was just going to be Bella and me…

I knew this made Bella sad because she voiced her desire for a big family and a big support system often.

I laid in bed last night just watching the clock, the bruise under my eye throbbing with each tick of the clock.

Then right before dawn, Bella, my darling, Bella had shot up in bed from a nightmare.

She cried and I reached out to hold her. She opened up to me, exhaling her burdens onto me as she told me about how she always wanted to tell me about why her family fell apart and why it was so important to her.

Bella had opened her heart and revisited the painful memories of how her brother had died of a brain tumor when she was just seventeen. That's why she moved so far away for school. She wanted to get away from her disintegrating family…

Bella said the sickness changed his personality so much that when he died she felt guilty for seeing it as a sort of relief. He'd become violent, abrasive, vicious, and just plain mean. His sickness ripped her whole family apart.

She always tried to tell herself that it wasn't really him talking so she wouldn't ever take it personally or begin to hate him, but as the months went on and things only got worse, she found it harder and harder to believe that.

Bella said the worst part was that he didn't die before things got so bad that she forgot what he was like before… This arrangement of words seemed to shock her before she explained that her mind filled with more memories of him spewing hate and getting violent than she had of him as _himself_.

I held her as she cried on into the morning until I started to cry myself.

I didn't remember what Rosalie's laugh sounded like. I didn't remember the way she'd wrinkle her nose when she smiled too wide, or the way we'd talk and she'd rest her chin on her knees while she listened.

I tried to remember the moments where Rosalie was herself, but it was getting harder the further away they became.

As I scrolled through my phone, I heard Bella's surprised gasp from the other room.

"What are you doing here?" Bella's voice was more surprised than hostile, and I froze, trying to hear.

"Would you mind if I talked with you for a moment?" I heard Rosalie's voice from the door, soft and unsure.

I stood from the table protectively, but waited for Bella's response.

"No, no, come in." Bella's voice was too high pitched and awkward, so I felt my muscles tense up protectively.

I saw Bella's wide, terrified, and caught off guard eyes as she rounded the corner with Rosalie trailing behind, looking around at our apartment that she'd never come to see before now.

Rosalie caught my gaze and her hand came to her mouth.

"Oh my God." Rosalie gasped, obviously in reference to my black eye.

"How did you get in the front door? We didn't buzz you in." I said, my tone more hostile than I'd anticipated.

"I just… _Your eye_ … There was a woman downstairs that recognized me and-" Rosalie trailed off, her eyes falling down.

I noticed she had a rosary wrapped around her wrist, turning the crucifix over and over in her hand nervously.

I wasn't as oblivious as Rosalie's father so I eventually made the connection in retrospect that she'd started going to Mass after her trial all those years ago because she had a crush on Emmett and wanted a good excuse to spend more time around him. I mean, she even got his mom to sponsor her confirmation. But, then, Rosalie really did find her faith and a place to go to heal after she was assaulted and suffered through a grueling trial.

Even though I didn't understand Rosalie and Emmett's religious convictions completely, I knew it meant a lot to Rosalie to believe in a higher power after experiencing tragedy. However, after their most recent tragedy Emmett and Rosalie both all but lost their religion.

They had been perfect Catholics, going to Mass every time the doors were open, taking Communion, going to Confession, whatever else they were supposed to do, but when they lost their baby, their world had been thrown upside down so it was odd to see the rosary around her wrist now.

Something was different.

"Why are you here?" I asked, trying not to sound quite as aggressive, but it wasn't working.

Bella's face was bright red.

"I came to apologize." Rosalie gulped like she had a branding iron down her throat and she clutched the rosary tighter.

She never apologized for _anything_.

She must've come from confession or an emergency Mass.

I didn't say a word, my expression remaining harsh as I crossed my arms over my chest.

Bella was in too much shock to respond.

Rosalie took a deep breath.

"I am _so_ sorry." Rosalie said tightly, but with a tinge of authenticity in her voice and remorse in her eyes as she looked between Bella and I.

This was torture for her.

I pursed my lips into a line.

"I was… needlessly nasty to you last night." Rosalie locked her eyes with Bella's and I put my arm around Bella in solidarity.

Bella's mouth hung open and her brow furrowed. She was as caught off guard as I was.

"I am sorry for the way I treated you both." Rosalie's eyes flashed up to mine.

"It was a terrible way of me to welcome you, Bella and celebrate one of the happiest moments of your lives together." Rosalie sounded rehearsed and I knew in that moment Emmett made her come.

He was probably waiting outside.

This sent me over the edge.

"He can make you do a lot of things but he can't force you into having remorse, Rosalie." I snapped and she immediately went on the defense.

"What are you talking about?" She breathed and Bella shot me a look.

"Emmett sent you with a script after he drug you to Mass." I said matter-of-factly, my blood boiling. "He tries to make you into a good person, but you're still just a spoiled brat."

"I can't believe him." I threw my hands up in surrender turning away. "Is he outside with cue cards?"

Rosalie did something she hadn't done in a long time. She started crying, and tears began to flow freely.

"No, I swear!" Her voice caught in her throat.

"Edward!" Bella shushed under her breath.

I stayed incredulously quiet, watching Rosalie cry.

She _was_ serious.

I hadn't seen her cry in years, and even then it was never as freely as she cried now in front of us.

"I'm sorry, Bella and I don't want you to hate me." Rosalie sniffled. "Even though you have every right to. I _was so horrible to you_ and…"

Bella threw her arms around Rosalie's shoulders, cutting her off with an embrace.

I winced; knowing that Rosalie hated affection.

But, Rosalie's arms softened, her hands trembling on Bella's back.

I was speechless.

"I don't hate you." Bella whispered, her eyes closing. "I've already forgotten all about it."

Rosalie finally recoiled from her embrace. Her muscles were awkwardly tensed, but her smile was warmer than I'd seen it in years.

Bella Swan, you miracle worker.

Rosalie's eyes danced to mine.

I couldn't bring myself to say that I didn't really mean it when I called her a brat.

I meant it.

She knew it too.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed.

I looked away.

Then, guilt rushed through me.

"I'm about to head to class. Would you want to walk with me?" I offered, my voice rough and sounding like I was already begrudging asking.

But, Rosalie quickly wiped her eyes and nodded enthusiastically.

"I have a car out front."

"I'm not taking your car." I responded, denying the privilege vehemently. "We're walking or nothing."

"Okay, we'll walk." She responded swiftly, tightening her grip on her rosary.

"Okay, let me grab my backpack." I mumbled, before tapping her on the top of the head like I used to when we were younger.

She knew the sibling-like gesture from years past with ancient familiarity and a radiant smile expanded on her face.

I couldn't tell her I forgave her, agreed with her, or accepted her, but I could tell her I remembered a time when we loved each other and were thick as thieves.

She was my one and only baby sister.

Bella grabbed my arm, following me as I left the room.

" _Please_ be nice." She encouraged under her breath.

I just nodded.

"I can't believe…" Bella started, but didn't finish her thought because she didn't have to.

She couldn't believe that the person in front of her today was the person that sat across the table from her last night.

I couldn't either.

Rosalie wasn't exactly one to apologize, get overwhelmed with emotion, or even _care_ about anyone's feelings...

"Edward, listen to me." Bella put her hand on my chest, her eyes serious as she made me pause before grabbing my backpack.

"What is it?" I asked, kissing her forehead.

"Just… Just that, I don't know your sister or Emmett that well, but I just think…" Bella started, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I just think that… that you have to remember they're _sick_ too, just like my brother was. I just want you to hold on to what it was like to really _know her_ because I think that's the best help in her remembering who she was. I guess I'm trying to say that if she sees who she was in your eyes, she'll recognize herself eventually."

I kissed Bella quickly, but passionately, in disbelief that she was so wise.

"I love you." I told her and she still made me smile when she said it back.

I tossed my backpack on my shoulder, heavy with law books and emerged to find Rosalie looking at a frame with a photo of Bella and I in it at a concert a few months ago.

My arms were around Bella's shoulders and I was kissing her on the cheek. Bella smiled a gorgeous, full smile, her dark brown hair a cloud around her face.

As she heard me approach, Rosalie looked up with a soft smile.

"That's a lovely photograph of you two." Rosalie said softly and I just nodded, the corner of my mouth turning up slightly and politely.

"We'll have to walk fast. I need to finish an outline before my first class." I said and Bella shot me a look, insisting I show some compassion.

I subtly sighed before I opened the front door and Rosalie glided out behind me.

"Rosalie, it means a lot that you stopped by. I'd love for you to come over one day so we can get to know each other better." Bella was friendly and kind. "When you're ready…"

She was an angel.

"I'd love that." Rosalie smiled removed but courteously and nodded before the door closed behind us.

I wasn't about to start conversation, so we took the stairs in silence.

As we emerged into the crisp fall air, I walked a few paces ahead of her, insisting on walking fast even though I'd lied. I had already finished that outline and Emmett had already given me all of his notes.

"Edward, wait up." Rosalie complained and I groaned dramatically before slowing my pace.

"Do you hate me?" She asked, a bounce in her step as she tried to keep up.

She was a tall girl with long legs but she still walked so slow for a native New Yorker.

It was a small thing to be frustrated with, but frustrated I was nonetheless.

"I am not allowed to hate you, Rosalie." I sighed exasperatedly.

"I wasn't very pleasant last night, and… and you have every right to be angry with me." She responded.

"Well, good, I _am_ angry with you." I said shortly.

She didn't know how to respond to this and it made the silence that followed extremely thick.

"I just don't recognize you anymore." I said simply.

Rosalie's face was stoic and she crossed her arms over her chest, her chin low.

"I know." She responded. "I'm… trying."

Her voice sounded so sad and defeated that it had an effect on me.

"I'm sure you are." I said coldly.

"Edward, please don't treat me this way." Rosalie seemed to beg.

I was silent.

I was the only person as stubborn as Rosalie…

This was not going to end until one of us bent. And for the first time, she was doing the bending.

"Fine. You can be angry at me, but what's going on with you and Emmett?" She asked, her eyes curious. "It breaks my heart."

Her heart? Her frozen, icy heart?

An ambulance passed so I had some time to collect my thoughts before it was quiet enough to talk again.

"Nothing's going on with us." I insisted, rolling my eyes.

She wasn't satisfied with that, but she didn't say a word.

I finally huffed as we stopped at a street corner, waiting for the light to turn.

She angled herself so I had to look at her.

"You used to be as close as brothers." Rosalie observed.

I didn't respond.

"What happened?" She pressed.

This seemed like the first time she'd been awake in over a year because I thought it was blatantly obvious that Emmett and I had an estranged relationship especially compared with how close we were before.

She was just now noticing it. All it took was a sucker punch.

"Nothing." I lied, pinpointing the exact moment we became on the outs.

He all but gave up on Rosalie, sending her off to Paris indefinitely… He didn't even go get her.

 _I_ had to go get her…

I'd never forgive him for that.

"Well, he said you made lunch plans with Irina Denali." She looked over with an accusatory glance and I got defensive. "I didn't know you wanted to defend criminals."

She narrowed her eyes. This was personal and I knew it. It was her attacker's attorney.

"Does he keep tabs on me?" I asked venomously, ignoring her investment in the argument.

I honestly just wanted to prove I could get a big job without his help. That's why I took the lunch. I didn't _actually_ want to work with Irina Denali.

"No. But people talk." Rosalie started. "He was convinced you were going to come work with he and Carlisle."

"I'm keeping my options open." I mumbled.

"Since _when?_ " She had alarm in her voice.

"Since I don't want to feel like I owe him for anything!" I snapped.

Rosalie took a step back at my harsh tone, her eyes wide.

"I don't want to always be in debt to him for getting me my job." I rephrased.

Rosalie paused as we crossed the street and my mind began to race.

"Do you remember when you were 15, you would get so angry when everyone used to tease you about how you'd never kissed a boy?" I began, redirecting.

"I used to tell you that you were going to join a convent because you wouldn't even go on a date with any of those poor, stupid guys that knocked on our door or sent you flowers. You were so naïve…"

Rosalie's lips were pressed into a straight line, but she nodded.

"But… I couldn't protect you from… from what happened to you. I'm your older brother and I couldn't _protect_ you." I said.

Rosalie looked up at me with big violet eyes.

"But, Emmett could. Even when you were just a stranger to him." I said. "Watching him that day in the courtroom, Rosalie… That's what made me want to quit my job and go back to school to be an attorney. I saw what he did for you and… and I want to do that for people."

Rosalie let out a shaky exhale, not wanting to revisit those memories.

"He _saved_ you, Rosalie." I said and she nodded.

"I know." She breathed.

"But now, he's killing you." I said boldly.

"What?!" She practically choked on her words and I put my arm out in front of her so she wouldn't keep walking into oncoming traffic.

"I just think… I just think he's been pushing you to have a baby and you don't really want that. I think you feel a debt to him for saving you, so you'll do anything he asks."

Rosalie's mouth opened disbelievingly, and she took a step out into the street, continuing to walk once there was a calm space in traffic.

"I don't want to feel the same obligation you do to repay him." I trailed behind her this time, waiting for her response.

An angry cab driver honked and I skittered the rest of the way out of the street.

" _How could you say that_?" She hissed, her eyes hostile.

Rosalie brushed her hair back from her face with both hands and I noticed as her sleeves fell up to her elbows that finger shaped bruises wound up her wrists.

The throbbing of the bruise on my own eye beat in time with my racing heart and I felt my nostrils flare.

"Did he grab you last night, Rosalie?" I was breathless, my heart beating out of my chest as I snatched her hand.

I was seeing red.

"What?! No." She shrieked, hushing me with the low volume of her voice. "He would never do that."

She followed my eyes to the bruises on her wrists and tugged her sleeves down.

I could kill him.

"Well. Yes. But, I bruise easily." She said defensively as if it was going to help the matter.

I turned around, not knowing where I was going, but I was going to find him and kill him.

"Edward!" She shrieked.

"He hurt you, Rosalie!" I roared.

"No, no. He didn't." She hushed me, grabbing onto my arm and trying to pull me back to the path.

I couldn't even breathe I was so angry.

"Edward, he was trying to protect me from hurting myself when he grabbed me. I was fighting him pretty hard." She said with darkness in her violet eyes.

"Are you telling me the truth?" I growled. "You're not protecting him are you? You can't do that, Rosalie. You know that no one should ever put their hands on you, right?"

She didn't. She didn't exactly know any better.

"He knows what it would mean if he hit me. He would _never do that_." Her eyes flashed with something that sent my stomach to my knees and so I stopped and listened to her.

"I would've burnt our entire apartment complex and all of Central Park down if he hadn't stopped me." Rosalie said, her face going dark. "I set fire to our entire storage closet last night."

She chuckled darkly and humorlessly.

"Rosalie… Why?…" I said softly, but began to see she was telling me the truth.

"I don't know why I lost our baby, Edward." She finally said with a ghostly voice. "I thought I did everything right."

I swallowed, a lump building in my throat. There was nothing I could say.

"I _did_ do everything right." She confirmed for herself and for me. "I just… I can't understand why…"

"Why do you even _want_ a baby, Rosalie?" I asked genuinely.

She furrowed her brow, but she didn't even need to think.

"Because, I want to be a mom." She responded easily like that was obvious. "I didn't exactly have one growing up, but now I have _three_ and I just… I can't process it. I feel like I've been shown every single way to be a mom, and so I know exactly what kind of mother I'd want to be… I want that chance so badly."

She referred to her mom and now two step-moms.

"I just want to do it right, to make things better, to _show up_ … But, more than anything really – I just want to be tied to Em in that way. God, I love him so much it hurts, Edward, but somehow he still loves me _more_... He's the best person I know, and I just want something in this world to exist that's half me and half him more than I've wanted anything in my life. "

Rosalie clenched her fingers and her muscles so her fists were in front of her shoulders as she closed her eyes.

I hadn't seen her like this in a long, long time.

"I know." I said honestly.

I did know.

She exhaled to relax.

"I just… I want a baby and I want to stay home with her and make her life perfect and easy and lovely…" Rosalie went on talking dreamily. "Em would kiss me when he came home. I'd have the baby dressed in beautiful pink frills and he'd pick her up out of my arms and she'd smile up at him with dimples just like his…"

"But, I couldn't do it…" She swallowed, cutting herself off from her fantasy.

"It's not your fault." I told her, stopping in my tracks, my voice intense as I looked into her eyes.

"Emmett's been so good at keeping me numb, and last night it all rushed in." She said in a low voice, looking away from me.

I began to see their want for a family wasn't one-sided. Rosalie's eyes were full of desperation and desire.

"We have everything we could ever want." Rosalie breathed. "We're young, rich, in love…"

She cleared her throat softly.

"But that's all we'll ever be."

The air was somber and serious and her eyes exuded so much hopelessness that I could almost taste it.

"Don't say that." I tried to encourage, but my voice was still melancholy.

She shook her head.

"I acted so selfishly last night in your regard." She redirected. "I want a family more than almost anything, but I can't destroy the one I already have."

She exhaled shakily.

"You're my brother, Edward." Rosalie looked at me with big violet eyes and I knew something was changing between us. "You _are_ my family."

Something was changing in her.

Something in her eyes was different - wiser, but also more vulnerable than I'd seen her in a very long time. That vulnerability made her seem younger and greener, but with the wisdom in her eyes, it made me respect her and her experiences.

I hadn't seen her behind her eyes in quite some time. She no longer looked like a stranger to me.

"And… I am so happy for you." She breathed, tears starting to appear in her eyes again. "I want you to know that."

She wasn't one for intense emotional experience or vulnerability, but that was the best she could do and I appreciated it.

"I don't really have to be in class early. Emmett gave me his notes ages ago."

"I figured as much." Rosalie smirked.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder ducking my cheek to press into her hair as she hugged to my side.

"I've missed you, Rosalie." I finally exhaled.

"I've missed you too." She said swiftly, turning to keep walking.

"Rosalie… wait…" I said to stop her.

She turned around.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Thank you for apologizing to Bella. It meant a lot to me." I said with a nod.

Rosalie half-smiled.

"I really needed to after that display last night." She snorted.

"Yeah, but… still." I said awkwardly still diverting. "I'm sorry for what I said to you too. I'm just really… protective of her."

"I think you've learned your lesson." Rosalie raised an eyebrow as she focused on my black eye.

I winced thinking about it. I'd almost forgotten about the throbbing pain until she brought it up.

"Yeah, I don't recommend the experience." I snorted. "He's got a mean left hook."

"I'm sorry, and I know he is too." Rosalie said with a sour expression, squeezing the crucifix in her hand.

"There's one more thing though, Rosalie." I said, beginning easily.

She waited.

"It's about Paris."

Rosalie clenched her jaw, her skin turning paler by the second.

"When you left for Paris, things were _really_ bad here. Awful." I said, the words heavy on my tongue.

Again, she waited but I noticed her eyes flash with the memory.

"Listen, you know, I'm going to always be honest with you." I said and her eyes came back to me in huge violet orbs.

"I know." She breathed, her voice shaking a little.

"With you gone, there was no reason for Emmett to try and keep it together." I spoke carefully but candidly and was nervous about her response.

She listened intently, craning her neck forward.

"And, so he didn't."

She nodded, furrowing her brow.

"What do you mean?" Rosalie finally questioned.

"One day right before I came to get you…" My soul felt heavy at the memory, and Rosalie looked away with an icy expression.

I tried to ignore the melancholy in the air so I could finish.

"He was making a speech at Columbia." I went on. "It was a _train wreck_ , and… And, I said a lot of very terrible things to him because I was angry. I was so angry what a mess he was without you, but that he never went to get you and bring you home..."

Rosalie looked at me with inquisitive eyes.

I swallowed my desire to give in to my emotion and continued.

"I thought Emmett gave up on you when he let you go to Paris and let you _stay_ in Paris." I redirected.

Rosalie's eyes were soft.

"But, he wasn't giving up on you… That look in his eye that day, Rosalie… God..." I choked up a bit, but cleared my throat. "It terrified me because… Well, because I'd seen it before. I'd seen it in my father's eyes… _Before_. Before he…"

Rosalie put her hand on my shoulder, stopping in her tracks to look up at me with urgent concern. I _never_ talked about my father this openly.

"Emmett gave up on _himself_." I clarified, looking away. "Not you."

Rosalie's brow furrowed and I felt her gaze heavy on my face.

"When I showed up in Paris last year, I came for you, but… I _went_ for Emmett." I sighed. "I couldn't lose him like that… Like my father... So I needed you to come home _so badly_. He was my best friend, Rosalie. Emmett was my _best friend_ and I was just so _angry_ at both of you because I lost you both and… and I couldn't bear it."

Rosalie's bottom lip trembled and she wrapped her arms around me tightly.

I felt her inhale shakily and I closed my eyes.

"I'm so sorry. Thank you." She breathed with abundant thanksgiving in her quivering voice.

I swallowed.

"God, I love him _so much_ , Edward… I don't know what I'd do if he…" She pulled away to wipe her eyes and sniffle as tears raced down her cheeks.

" _I_ know how much you love him now." I expanded. "But, does he?"

"I don't know," Rosalie breathed.

"Don't let him forget." I swallowed. "It's a wonderful thing to be loved by you."

Her eyes met mine, darting over my face in search. Her mouth was open slightly, as if she was incredulous at what I'd said to her.

"Have _you_ forgotten?" She began in a tiny, unsure voice.

I paused, knowing she would elaborate.

"That I love _you_?" She looked at me straight in the eyes now and I couldn't look away.

I could count on one hand the amount of times Rosalie had told me she loved me. Once when she was eleven and it was Christmas, once at her wedding, once when she'd told me she was having a baby and once now.

I was taken aback. I didn't know what to say. Rosalie was never one to express her love in traditional ways, but she'd begun to hold back in _all_ of her ways so that she wasn't showing love at all. I began to doubt if she possessed any love at all anymore.

Before, I could look into her eyes and even when she wasn't saying anything, I could see that there was love in there. Even when she didn't show it, I could see it, but recently… I hadn't seen anything behind her eyes.

"It's taken a long time, but… but I forgive you for Paris." She said sincerely.

My heart began to race and I had to look away. I knew she saw shame in my expression, but I was still holding back…

I did something terrible in Paris - something I _swore_ I would never do and something I'd never done since. It was something that haunted me every single day, something that followed me like a ghost and was waiting in the shadows to rear its ugly head…

I thought it was going to take a long time to separate me from that, but Rosalie telling me she forgave me was like she had cut the iron tether for good. She released me from being that person, freed me from that past, unbound me from that terrible burden…

"Did you hear me?" Rosalie pressed.

I nodded. I was still processing.

"Did you ever tell Emmett?" I asked.

I wondered what he would do when he found out if he didn't already. I'd have a lot more than a black eye…

"Are you still the person you were in Paris?" Rosalie asked in a riddle.

I shook my head.

"No. I'm not." I said.

I'd done a lot of thinking, a lot of trying to separate myself from that man…

"Then I don't think he has to know." Rosalie said matter-of-factly. "Unless you feel like you need to tell him to heal yourself."

I swallowed. I didn't know…

"I don't want to be the person I was in Paris either, or the person I've been this past year." She said with a nod. "I don't want to just forget about it though. I want to move on."

"I'm _trying_ to move on." She repeated with a deep sigh, tracing her fingers over the beads in her rosary over and over.

"So Edward, I want you to forgive _me_ too." She eventually said in a tone like molten lava as she looked back up to me. "When you're ready."


	12. I Grieve

_Hey everyone! Thank you SO MUCH for your response to Edward and Rosalie's growing moments together. Their relationship as siblings is always something that's fascinated me and this has been such a great way to scratch the itch I have about writing about them!_

 _Here's a very short chapter on some backstory and foundation of Edward and Emmett's relationship that really needed to be written!_

 _Usually, how I write is that I always like having two chapters on deck before I post another... I already kind of know how I'm ending the story, and some storylines that I need to get there, then I just expand as needed, but, this week as I was editing, the characters just took a mind of their own and pulled me in a different direction so I had to completely add another chapter to the deck that will be posted soon!_

 _I'd love to hear your thoughts and can't wait to keep sharing my story with you!_

* * *

 _I Grieve – Peter Gabriel_

 _It was only one hour ago  
It was all so different then  
Nothing yet has really sunk in  
Looks like it always did  
This flesh and bone  
Is just the way that we are tied in  
But there's no one home  
I grieve, for you  
You leave, me  
So hard to move on  
Still loving what's gone  
They say life carries on  
Carries on and on and on and on_

* * *

 **Edward: Emmett at Columbia**

 _Last Year, January_

"People can't see him like this." I said, and Jasper nodded, grunting as he pulled Emmett up off the pavement.

Emmett was limp, his head hanging forward and the toes of his shoes dragging the ground as Jasper and I both struggled with him. I'd called Jasper to help me, because I couldn't carry him by myself, and there was no one else I'd trust to see him like this.

"Emmett, one foot in front of the other." Jasper encouraged. "Walk. Please."

"Sorry," He chuckled mindlessly, then hiccupped.

One of Emmett's arms hung around my shoulders while the other arm hung around Jasper's.

"Did you find cologne? He reeks of whiskey." I grimaced.

Emmett stumbled forward and Jasper and I attempted to steady him as he unwound his arm from my shoulder.

Emmett's facial expression changed and he was determined as he changed course, turning and running straight into me.

"No, no, other way." I sighed, turning his shoulders.

"But, Rosalie… and macaroons –" He mumbled halfway unintelligibly, but was full of determined emotion.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, obvious annoyance painting my voice.

"Wait, his shoes are on the wrong feet." Jasper groaned. "Emmett, I swear you're gonna be the death of me."

"She's gone." Emmett repeated, sitting down in the center of the sidewalk as he swapped his shoes.

His behavior warranted some stares, and giggles as the people passed.

I knelt beside him, tying his shoes for him after watching him fumble with it for a second.

"She'll be back soon, and you want to be in better shape to talk to Rosalie later right?" I tried to reason with him knowing I was lying that she'd come back soon. "You can't be like this if she calls tonight. Do you understand?"

Emmett nodded.

I hated seeing him like this, and I hated knowing what made him like this.

"Now here. Drink this." Jasper said, handing him a Gatorade.

He flopped down on the front steps of a random apartment building and fumbled with the lid, his eyes unfocused.

"Let me…" I sighed, opening it for him.

After a moment, he was still and quiet just staring down at his feet. He was sweating in 20-degree weather. He was going to get dehydrated or catch pneumonia.

"It's 8 in the morning. How early did you start drinking?" Jasper and I exchanged a look as we braced ourselves to pick him up.

"I… I think it's left over. He was asleep at his office when I called you." I grumbled as we struggled to get him to his feet again.

He chuckled as his head nodded forward.

"Emmett, for God's sake are you high?" I hissed in a whisper, noticing how dilated his pupils were.

"Shhh…" He whispered with a mischievous grin.

"You're supposed to be lecturing at Columbia Law in _twenty minutes_." I reminded him with a sharp tone.

I had arranged it all as I ran for president of the Student Bar Association months ago and he was going to ruin everything for me. I tried not to ever use our connection as family in fear of looking like I could get special treatment or favoritism. I thought that professors would know I would end up at his firm so they'd just hope to keep me happy so I'd give money to the school after graduation.

Mostly though, I didn't like to be compared to him.

We had very different legal theory, very different approaches to case study, and different styles of public speaking and command of the courtroom.

We were different. Apples and oranges.

But, I didn't even want people to have to _think_ about comparing us.

"I know." Emmett said in a breathy tone slurring all his words. "I can do it, Edward."

Jasper and I were not convinced that he could, but in twenty minutes I settled into my seat nervously between the dean of Columbia Law and my first year Criminal Law professor to watch Emmett stumble to the podium.

But… He proved me wrong and he did it.

Granted, he was sweating, stumbling over a few of his words and indulging in his nervous bad habits, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be.

He did fine. He just looked a little eccentric and nervous. Anyone who knew him knew that something was off, but it wasn't tragic or anything.

Afterward though is when it started to fall apart.

I stood far enough away we wouldn't be grouped together, but close enough I could hear when conversation plummeted.

"Congrats on your baby by the way. You'll have to let us know if you get more sleep as a law student or a new parent." One of the first years said as she shook his hand.

She was attempting to be charming and make an impression based on something she read about him on the Internet…

Classic first year.

His face went white and his expression was as if all of his hardwiring had been fried when he dropped her hand like it was scalding hot.

"Oooookay!" I said, weaving through a couple of people to put my hand on his shoulder.

He looked at me like he was drowning.

"You idiot, his wife just left him." Another first year hissed under his breath as he smacked her on the arm lightly.

Oh God.

"She took the baby and left. I read that somewhere." Someone else was saying.

"For God's sake, stop talking about celebrity gossip." One of the other people scolded in a harsh mumble.

"I… I don't know the answer." Emmett said nonsensically, telling me like he was trying to finish a problem on an exam and didn't have the formula to find the solution.

"Let's go." I said quickly, pulling on his arm to get him out of the room.

The other people standing close were quizzical and taken aback.

"No. No, I just…" He ran a hand through his hair nervously.

"Emmett." I said under my breath in finality. "You have to get back to work don't you? Big client with Carlisle right?"

I heard them all whispering around us about how quickly his switch had flipped. The most powerful word I caught was basket-case.

"I'm sorry if I…" The girl started, and I shot her a look of warning before I finally got Emmett out of the room.

When I finally got him outside and in an alley no one would see or overhear, I said what I thought – honest and candid.

"You should move to Paris with Rosalie." I finally said. "You're no good here anymore."

Emmett started breathing heavily, pacing.

"I can't. I can't do it." He said quickly so I barely understood him.

He paced, biting his nails nervously.

"I can't move again. I don't want to move again."

He was hyperventilating. I'd never seen him like this. I'd never seen _anyone_ like this.

"Emmett, I was just…" I started, but it was like he didn't hear me.

He was absolutely irrational. He was inconsolable.

"I can't learn French," He ran his hands over his face, fixating nonsensically on the language barrier. "God, I'm so stupid. I can't. I don't want to leave again."

"Hey… listen." I started, but again it was like he just didn't hear me speaking to him and his chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Starting over again. I can't start over _again_." His face looked pale, like he was about to pass out.

"You don't have to." I furrowed my brow, unable to pinpoint his obsession on anything other than that he'd already been an expat once and he didn't want to do it again.

I didn't know anything about how or why he initially came to America, but I could see he didn't want to leave, so much so that he would let Rosalie stay in Paris alone.

"But, you should at least go get her."

He eventually started looking a little more rational but his breathing was still heavy.

"Bring her home." I said.

He didn't say anything.

"Did you _hear_ me?" I asked, getting a little angry.

"I heard you." He responded.

"Then why aren't you already on a plane?" I pushed.

He looked back at me with vast, heartbroken eyes. He looked defeated, and I'd seen that look before so long ago in someone else's eyes...

I took a deep breath, trying to control my anger and irrational response.

"You saw those pictures of her I'm guessing?" He asked, thinking that was the reason I'd brought this up.

"I did." I said tartly.

He was referring to some pictures of Rosalie on a yacht in Cannes this past weekend, dancing, smiling, and looking like she hadn't lived the past six months of her life.

They'd been erased.

But, more than all that, there was a man in the picture with her… A French filmmaker. It was unclear whether they were having an affair by the photograph, but it was still too much.

Honestly, seeing her like that just made the whole situation seem worse. Like everything was fine, waving and posing in front of cameras.

I knew that was her job, to be a public figure, to look glamorously unaffected by the tragedies of life, but… but looking at Emmett the way he was now made Rosalie's distance seem so cruel.

But, Emmett hadn't even _visited_ her in three months. Who doesn't see their wife for _three months_?

Granted, he was distracted. He kept himself distracted just like she was staying distracted. He worked 100-hour weeks and he slept in his office whatever little he did sleep.

"When is she coming home?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"That's not good enough, Emmett." I snapped.

"She'll come home when she's ready." He mumbled.

"She's _never_ going to be ready!" My voice rose. "You have to go get her!"

He clenched his jaw, but remained silent and defeated.

"This is not how it's supposed to be." I said tightly.

"But, this is how it is" He responded with finality but I kept pushing.

"It wouldn't have to be." I was seething now. "If you'd never let her leave."

"What was I _supposed_ to do, Edward?!" He stood taller.

"You were supposed to love her enough to try and get through this _with_ her." I said accusingly.

His eyes got wide like he couldn't believe what I was saying.

"I do love her. _For Christ's sake_ , Edward, I love her enough to know _I_ can't take care of her. I can't. She's… _fine_ in France. She wanted to go to France. She has _good_ , childhood memories there and her mother's there and she…"

"Emmett, you can't go on like this forever." I said resolutely.

"She's better off than she was here with me." Emmett argued.

"So, you're going to get a divorce?"

"God, _no_ , Edward, I wouldn't leave her." Emmett shook his head, like the thought was awful in his head.

"She could leave _you_." I said without meaning the harshness that came out of my mouth, and his muscles tensed like I'd stabbed him in the heart.

"Maybe." He said, void of all emotion.

"Do you not think that's awful?" I practically spat.

"The _most_ awful." He said in finality.

"You're going to just keep living apart then?" I narrowed my eyes. I couldn't wrap my head around it, and I was growing more and more frustrated.

"I. don't. know." Emmett said through clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.

"It's been _three_ months, Emmett!" I reminded him. "She's been gone, three months."

He didn't seem to acknowledge time had passed and this fact seemed to slap him in the face. He inhaled sharply and turned his cheek away.

"I know." Emmett breathed.

"You don't care?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I care, Edward. Do you know what it's like to live without your heart, your lung, your hands?..." Emmett gasped. "It's like living without parts of myself; every single beat of my heart hurts. Every single time my lungs expand. Every blink of my eye…"

"It hurts her to be away from you too - going through all of this _alone_ , I'm sure of it." I said with 100% confidence.

"Just let her be, Edward. She's…" He started.

"You're losing her _forever_! Are you prepared for that?" I practically yelled.

He looked over at me with the most pathetically sad eyes I'd ever seen.

"I can't lose her." Emmett said.

"Then you need to go get her." I gritted my teeth.

"I can't…" He sighed.

"All right, fine. _I'm_ going to get her." I grumbled, turning on my heel.

I loved Rosalie and I couldn't see her lost forever. She was my baby sister, and she was out there, _alone_ , suffering through the greatest tragedy of her life.

"Edward, she'll listen to you." Emmett mumbled.

"If you would go get her, she _would_ listen to you." I responded easily.

"No, not like she listens to you." Emmett said.

"You don't even give her the chance." I shook my head.

"She told me she didn't want to even look at me, Edward."

"She doesn't mean that." I argued.

"Yes, she does." Emmett said with intensity. "She didn't kiss me goodbye, and I had to practically wrestle with her to get her to hug me before she got on the plane."

"She's…" I said, but didn't know how I was going to finish.

"She's made her mind up." Emmett sighed. "She doesn't want to see me."

"How could she not want to see you?" I rolled my eyes; this was the most ridiculous conversation I'd ever been a part of.

"Because I remind her of that day." Emmett said with a somber look in his eye.

I didn't know what to say.

"I don't think she'll ever look at me again, Edward." Emmett sighed, and the weight of our conversation seemed to get to be too much for him to bear because he sat down on the curb, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

"She'll heal." I tried to offer.

"It just… It's just…" Emmett exhaled, not looking at me.

He gritted his teeth and picked his head up and turned away to make sure I wasn't seeing that he was crying.

It was really hard to watch. It seemed so wrong for him not to be grinning ear to ear.

"What heals her is being away from me, finding whatever it is she wants to find in Paris… but… I…. God, Edward, I'm _dying_. I've been dying a little more every moment since that day." Emmett looked further away from me, a sob catching in his throat and I knew he didn't want me to see him like this but I sat down on the curb next to him anyway.

My chest felt hollow.

"I needed her; the thing I needed to get through this was _her_ …" Emmett wiped his eyes. "And she _left_ … She left me to try and survive this without her."

"I just needed _her_." Emmett began to sob, covering his face and obviously hating that I was seeing him this way, but I couldn't leave him. "I just needed _her_ …"

I couldn't leave him this way.

I wrapped my arm around his shoulder wordlessly and he responded to it by turning toward me and crying tears he wouldn't let himself cry before.

He lost his daughter and his wife in the span of a couple weeks; no one could blame him for being upset. He hadn't let himself be upset yet and he needed to start the healing process... He had kept himself drunk or in denial. He needed to acknowledge he had experienced a tragedy too and not just try to take care of everyone else.

But, as healing as I'd imagine it to be to finally let himself take a breath, he needed _Rosalie_.

We sat wordlessly as he sobbed into my shoulder for what seemed like an eternity, and I tried to remain a stone and strong presence for him. I offered nothing but my presence because I knew that's the best I could do.

After a long moment of getting himself back under control, he spoke.

"When she's gone, I can pretend she's happy; I can pretend that she's herself, that nothing ever hurt her, that she's okay…" Emmett trailed off as he caught his breath. "What am I going to do, when she gets back and… and she's… _not?_ "

I swallowed.

"You're going to pull it together and take care of her." I said in a decree, then stood to turn and go pack a suitcase.

I was going to Paris.


	13. Ultraviolence

_Hey everybody! Thank you SO MUCH for your responses and reviews! I love seeing what you write to me. It makes my heart happy._

 _This chapter is back to Edward and Rosalie and this is a BIG moment in the development of both characters as well as their relationship to one another. Edward is in PARIS!_

 _It made me nervous and excited at the same time to write this deeply and candidly, but a quick_ **WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER.** _Rosalie does hint at the details of her assault in a conversation with Edward at this point for emphasis of a point she's trying to make to him. If you want to skip that part or feel uncomfortable with this abuse, please skip to the end. The conversation happens about 3/4 through the chapter and I've italicized it to make it easier to know when to stop and start reading if this is too much to read._

 _Writing Rosalie's vulnerability in this way was extremely hard for me and emotionally taxing, but it emphasized the strength in her relationship with Emmett. I think it shows the fact that he knows every single detail of what happened to her and how it informs how he takes care of her, how he loves her, and how he's sensitive to her wounds. He knows what she's been through and for someone that doesn't let anyone know them like Rosalie, it's important to note he knows her through and through. He had to sit across a courtroom from someone that hurt her this badly. He had to question him. He had to carry her burdens before he knew he loved her so it informed the foundation of their relationship._

 _This chapter for Edward and Rosalie really is the explosion at the end of a fuse, and the true rock bottom for them. This chapter shows the intensity of the stress points in both of their characters and just how low they can both go. This chapter was also hard to write because you really see the bad, awful, terrible, heinous, evil parts of both of them highlighted by their conflict with one another. Their character development is dependent upon it though, so thanks for hanging in there!_

 _Sorry for all the angst! A happy chapter is long overdue ;) It's coming. We just have to comb through some things first._

* * *

 _Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey_

 _He used to call me DN_  
 _That stood for deadly nightshade_  
 _'Cause I was filled with poison_  
 _But blessed with beauty and rage_  
 _Jim told me that_  
 _He hit me and it felt like a kiss_  
 _Jim brought me back_  
 _Reminded me of when we were kids_

* * *

 **Rosalie: The Day I Broke My Vow**

 _Last Year, January, Paris_

I laughed emptily in a room full of people, my eyes darting to the door every so often.

Waiting.

Time moved slowly, but in odd lurches. I barely noticed that three and a half months had passed since I'd left New York, except that every passing second throbbed like the clotting blood under a fresh bruise.

I sighed, reaching my arms up to the ceiling in a lazy stretch from where I lounged on the fainting chair, my long white legs extended into the sunlight from the window. I pointed my toes to complete the stretch, then watched the rest of the room converse around me.

Each day in Paris, I'd been spinning on a carousel. Repeating my cycle day after day, attached to the ceiling and floor with a golden spinning pole.

Today though, the roundabout halted with a simple text from my stepbrother, Edward.

I'd responded easily, telling him where to find me, and hoping I could take him to dinner, but I knew the rod was to be removed from my back and I would ride in safety around my carousel no longer.

No one had visited me since I'd moved to Paris, and I preferred it that way, but my frozen heart seemed to skip a beat when I saw Edward's words hint at his proximity.

He was in Paris.

I entertained the thought only briefly that my darling Emmett would be with him.

Then, my stomach dropped and I refused that despairing contemplation, knowing this would be threatening to the exterior I'd worked so hard to construct in our separation.

I was safe and happy now, and I worried that seeing him would remind me that our greatest joy had turned to ashes in my womb. I worried about the way he would look upon my face; would it be with pity? Would it be with disappointment? Would it be with resentment?

This was my deepest fear, and I refused to breathe life into it by letting him look upon my face in any way.

I wasn't brave. I couldn't chance it.

The knock at the door startled me, but made my soul calm – knowing it was Edward's knuckles on the door.

Rémy stood from the sofa across from me insisting he'd answer it.

He was a lanky-built filmmaker with light shoulder length hair, green eyes and a humor-filled smile. I didn't trust _anyone_ , but he was safe enough to be considered an acquaintance in my time in Paris. He was so vain and self-involved that he didn't bother to ask me any questions. He looked upon my beauty distantly and with a case of sour grapes that he wasn't the one to indulge in it.

I knew he told people I was insane behind my back.

I preferred it this way. This way, he wouldn't try to get close to me; he would only keep me near him as social capital. He wanted to use my fame as a springboard to his own.

I didn't blame him so I let him use me.

Rémy answered the door now, speaking French to welcome the visitor.

"I'm here for Rosalie." Edward said slowly under his breath correctly doubting Rémy's ability to understand his English.

His voice filled my ears like seawater when a wave crashes into my back with unexpected strength and knocks me into the salt.

"Oh Edward," My voice was airy and I felt anticipation bubbling into my throat. "Do come in."

I sat up on my elbows on the fainting chair, desperate for a glimpse of his face as his footsteps grew closer.

I swung my legs so my bare feet hit the floor and I stood as I saw him round the corner.

He was just as wonderful as I remembered.

I exhaled, twirling a long piece of hair around my fingers nervously as I looked over his face.

Something in his face was colder than I remembered.

"You look different." Edward observed.

His voice filled my cells and rang through my ears, but my eyes darted around Edward's shoulders for a millisecond, hoping…

The fleeting moment of hope I allowed myself ached as it crashed into the greatest depths of disappointment.

I shakily exhaled, coming to terms that he wasn't here.

He didn't come for me.

I forgot what Edward said and smiled a smile void of all emotion, never allowing it to touch my violet eyes.

"I hope you had good travels." I breathed.

"I did." Edward nodded, his voice icy and stoic as he looked around the room.

I noticed disgust in his eyes as he looked over the people I'd chosen to help me pass the time.

None of them had familiar faces. None of them reminded me of anyone. They were safe.

I followed his eyes to the empty bottles and drugs on the table.

Just to pass the time. Nothing dangerous…

"You need to come home." Edward insisted with a strong, confident tone.

I laughed a humorless laugh, shooting my eyes to the ceiling.

"I'm afraid I can't, Edward; my schedule here is just so demanding." I said, turning away from him, only allowing so much.

Then, like a branding iron, I felt his hand on mine stopping my spiral.

I tensed my muscles at the contact, but he didn't falter in the grip he had on my hand.

"I came to bring you back." His emerald eyes burned into mine as I attempted to retract my hand.

I frowned.

"But, I'm having so much fun." I said in defense, pouting.

My heart began to race.

I couldn't go back. I couldn't go back.

I wasn't ready.

Edward sighed like he didn't know what to say, then dropped my hand.

For this, I was thankful and I held up my hand to my chest, cradling it as a cat does with an injured paw.

This was the first contact I'd had in months…

I cleared my throat and twirled, turning to the rest of the room and speaking French to introduce Edward.

"Would you like some wine?" I suggested, picking my own glass from the table.

Rémy began pouring another glass, understanding my intent.

"I'm not thirsty." Edward shook his head.

"Well, then it's a good thing I didn't offer you water." I raised an eyebrow as I brought my own glass to my lips and Rémy outstretched the fresh one to him.

"Who are these people, Rosalie?" Edward asked, frowning as he looked around, taking the glass and setting it down on the table behind him.

"My friends." I said easily, though I wasn't sure of the words I'd chosen and I took a long drink.

"Tell them to leave. You're packing your things." Edward seemed to command.

I clenched my jaw and my fists, not liking that he was telling me what to do.

He didn't understand.

"I'm not." I stood taller. "I wouldn't have told you where I was if I'd known you were going to be such a killjoy."

I smiled a joyless smile at him, and he frowned at my smirk.

"I'd have tracked you down." Edward said shortly.

This made my stomach drop to the floor. I'd hoped that he meant what he said.

"Why is it so important to you that I come back to New York?" I asked, testing. "I'm working."

"Are you here because you're running away or because you're really working in a way you couldn't in New York?" He interrogated me, glaring at me strongly.

I had a bad taste in my mouth that intensified, as our eyes remained locked. Neither one of us faltered our gaze for a long set of moments, until I looked to the people in my circle and told them to leave in French.

With large questioning eyes they gathered their drugs and alcohol and began to disperse.

Edward was silent as he watched, but I knew him well enough to know he was fuming.

"Your family's in New York. Your _husband_." He reminded me, anger tainting his velvet voice as he started toward my bedroom to keep packing.

I felt bile rise in my throat and I turned my face so I wouldn't have to look at him as I followed.

I couldn't say anything in fear of the cry for my Emmett that threatened to pour out of my mouth.

I forgot what his name felt like on my tongue.

My fingers came to my lips, tracing the outline as I stared at the floor and tried to remember the last time they'd been kissed.

"My mom's here." I said, though I'd only seen her a handful of times because she was always jet-setting with Diane…

"Where is she now, then?" Edward asked in challenge.

I looked away, refusing a response.

" _When_ were you planning on coming home?" Edward aimed the words at me like a missile as he started stuffing the contents of my dresser into bags.

Then, he started toward my bedroom and I huffed as I followed.

"Don't you have something better to do than come here and irritate me to death by tearing apart my room?" I crossed my arms over my chest.

He whirled around, his eyes wild.

"I have plenty of better things to do, but I chose to travel across the world because you're my sister, and you need to come _home_." He gritted his teeth, standing over me.

"I don't want to argue with you, Edward, so if you came all this way just to..." I began as he continued packing up my things while I stood idly by.

"Rosalie, you _have_ to come home. We all need you to come back..." Edward said strongly, looking away from me.

 _We_ … I longed to hear his name, but I also dreaded the pain it would bring.

"Your family, your husband… _Emmett_ wants you back home."

There it was. Hearing his name conjured him in my mind, and I realized that the months had cursed me with forgetting the details of what his laugh sounded like. My heart was heavy, and I inhaled sharply.

"Really?" I asked, totally removed as I twirled a piece of my silvery blonde hair around my fingers.

He didn't answer and my heart was in my throat with anticipation.

I remained indifferent.

"Did he send you?" I asked, looking away from him nervously.

I didn't know what I wanted to hear, or if I wanted to hear anything, but when he said no, my heart sank to a deep abyss.

I was angry, but I tried to conceal my emotions.

Edward stopped packing my things and stared at me for a long moment. I noticed my breathing was growing heavier as my heart rate increased and I clenched my fists and took a deep inhale to try and ease it back to normal.

"You don't even _think_ about home?" He asked, confronting me with an accusatory tone.

I followed his eyes to my disheveled sheets. I just hadn't made up my bed today. I stayed in bed until noon, unable to find the motivation to get up.

"Would you want to?" I challenged, but he made quick assumptions about invitations I'd given to my bed.

"I'd want to think about a vow I made to someone that loves me." He growled.

My face got hot.

"I've _kept_ my vows." I said with an icy glare. "Are you insinuating I haven't?"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm insinuating." He responded, gesturing to my unmade bed with angry hands.

I laughed crazily, throwing my head back.

There was no one in this universe that I wanted in my bed but Emmett.

"You don't know _anything_ , Edward." I said, shaking my head. "Why? Has he been whoring around with someone else? Someone smart and interesting?"

Edward just stared at me open-mouthed and I panicked.

"Is that why you're here to tell me? Hmm?" I pushed. "Edward?"

I felt my voice get higher pitched as fear crept in. I spoke quickly, not processing my words before I said them. I couldn't picture him with someone else.

He was with someone else.

I let him be with someone else.

My heart raced.

"You came to tell me that he's got some girl spreading her legs? I'll bet she's a brunette. Or maybe there's a few of them? Girls would claw each others' eyes out to get naked for him."

The words hurt my tongue like they were scalding hot as they tumbled from my mouth.

What was I going to do if I lost him?

"No. Rosalie." Edward furrowed his brow, insisting. "You're being ridiculous. He's…"

"Leave, Edward. I don't want you here." I said through gritted teeth, unable to grab hold of my emotions.

"Too bad." He responded quickly. "I'm not leaving until you do."

"Then, welcome to Paris." I said with a slimy smile that made Edward glare at me with hatred.

"For heaven's sake, why are you so _afraid_ of coming home?!" Edward pressed, his voice rising.

"I'm not afraid. I just can't think of any reason to come back when I've got so much going on here." I said, keeping my cold eyes away from him as I spoke.

"Damn it, Rosalie! You _have_ to come home!" He huffed, sick of arguing in circles with me now.

I just wanted him to leave. It hurt too much to be reminded…

"Are you angry with me?" I laughed madly, feeling my eyes grow wider with the fear of what he was going to say and the smaller, but growing fear that he would really leave and I would be alone again. "Edward, come on. You hate me. Look at me. You hate me don't you?"

He hated me. Everyone hated me.

"Rosalie, you're acting crazy." He said, a sour look on his pursed lips.

"Then leave me." I laughed again, breathless at the idea of solitude once again.

He'd give up on me too.

"Rosalie, you can't give up and run away. Emmett has been too good to you for you to do this to him." Edward said boldly, looking down on me with revulsion in his eyes.

I stood strong and stoic, refusing to let his words break me.

"To work hard and make my own money? So, I don't have to rely on him all the time?"

"You're _married_. That's what you do, you rely on each other." Edward insisted.

He relied on me, but I'd failed him. I swallowed my damaged self-worth.

"Maybe I can't do that." I said coldly.

Edward misinterpreted my vague words, and fumed.

"Everyone said you were _too young_ , acting _too recklessly_ , making stupid and rash decisions… Your _own father_ thought you were too foolish and too naïve to know what you were doing when you married Emmett, but I defended you _. I defended you_!"

"I _was_ foolish." I said through gritted teeth.

My mind danced to a day Emmett had looked at me and asked me if I really wanted a life with him. He told me that things wouldn't always be easy for us. Innocently, I didn't know what that would mean…

I didn't know what horrors laid in front of us.

"I don't even know who you are anymore!" Edward was heated, his cheeks flushing as he tossed his hands in the air.

I couldn't say another word; my heart was in my throat.

"Because I'm not weak? Because I am doing what I want and succeeding at my career?" I challenged.

"No, because you _are_ weak. You are running away. And because you're acting like a selfish _bitch_!" Edward said heatedly.

I laughed humorlessly.

"I've been called worse."

"Yeah, well, nothing is worse than abandoning people that love you! You're a coward!" Edward yelled at me and I almost flinched back from his hostility.

"Whatever, Edward." I grumbled.

"Whatever?!" He was getting angrier and angrier and I knew it. "Everyone wants you home."

I snorted and rolled my eyes.

"Emmett _needs_ you to come home."

"Why didn't he ask for me then?" I raised an eyebrow. "I see he didn't bother coming with you."

"Oh my God." Edward threw his hands up. "You're acting so difficult…. Stop trying to make this a game for five seconds."

"I'm not making this a game." I challenged.

"Yes you are. You're seeing if he'll cave first, aren't you?"

"I am not." I wasn't… That wasn't it at all.

"What do you expect him to do, Rosalie?" Edward pushed.

"I don't care what he does." I shrugged.

"You don't want him sleeping with other people though do you?" Edward raised an eyebrow.

I clenched my jaw. It was more than unimaginable.

"I don't care." I lied.

"So you want a divorce?" Edward went there…

I swallowed.

"Is that what he wants?" I asked strongly. "You can tell me, Edward."

"No, Rosalie, and God only knows why he doesn't leave you right this second." He spat the words and they stung my ears as I heard them. "You're a monster. I don't recognize you at all."

I felt the pace of my breathing quicken and the threat of tears pushed at my eyes.

"He loves you so much, Rosalie. It's killing him." Edward went on.

"I. Don't. Care." I said coldly to deny the emotions rising in my soul.

That's when a loud crack across my face sent me tumbling off my balance and to the floor.

It was loud, echoing through the room like a gunshot.

I gasped at the pain, my hands coming to the burning sensation on my cheek as I looked up to Edward.

He was reaching shaking hands to help me up, his eyes full of shame and fear.

I tilted my chin up, feeling the blood on my lips as I stared straight into his sorry eyes.

A wicked, manic smile spread across my lips and I started to laugh as I retracted my hand, staring at the blood on my fingertips for a long lingering moment.

Edward, moral, good, perfect, Edward had _hit_ me like I was nothing to him…

The only sound in the room was the sound of Edward's breath and mine growing quicker and quicker.

"Rosalie," He started, guilt and shame eating through his voice. "Oh my God…"

I heard my heartbeat in my ears and I flinched away from his hand as he reached out to help me up from the floor.

"Do you want to hit me again?" I breathed as I looked up at him with wide eyes wondering what was going through his mind as his eyes began to look misty and his face lost all of its color.

"Rosalie, I'm _so_ sorry…. I didn't mean to hurt you." He clenched his teeth, his bottom lip trembling.

"I asked you a question!" I said coldly, feeling a crazy smile begin to spread across my bloodied lips.

Edward looked at me with tortured eyes.

"Do. You. Want. To hit me again?" I enunciated my words, feeling the smile grow.

"No. No, I'm so sorry." Edward said seriously, kneeling in front of me. "Rosalie, I'm so sorry."

He reached out for my face and I shrunk away from him.

"Are you going to tell him, or shall I?" I felt my smile transform into a sneer.

Edward dropped his hands and his focus, his eyes looking terrified, desperate, and remorseful.

I knew he didn't mean it, and that he wasn't a bad person. He just made a bad, rash decision, but it didn't stop my desire to torture him for this...

" _Emmett_ …" I choked his name because my throat was almost as hot as my cheek and it still felt so fresh on my tongue. "knows _every_ single horrific detail about the last time someone hit me. So that's why I _know_ he never would… He knows what that means to me. I don't want to _ever_ be hit again."

"Now, _you_ need to hear all about it. You'll never hit _anyone_ again once you do. I swear it." I said lightheartedly, like I was preparing to tell him a bedtime story of fairytales, but ancient wounds were ripped anew, the blood beginning to flow from my nightmarish memories.

 _Edward couldn't stomach it, but I made myself callous and detached, as if I was talking about someone else's life._

 _"I was just fifteen; No one had ever touched me; I'd never even thought about it before, so I couldn't imagine how much it would hurt. It ruined me. I thought it was always going to be like that…" I began and he looked away from me. "Em told me later that it wasn't supposed to be, that I was supposed to like it, but I was still so afraid of him I wouldn't…"_

 _"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Edward." I commanded him and his emerald orbs shot back up to me at my command._

 _I sighed in exasperation._

 _"Rosalie, I can't…" He said, grimacing. "I'm so sorry."_

 _I ignored him and went on._

 _"I thought Royce just liked me because I was good at my job… I thought I was networking and doing the right thing when I went to his parties. I told him I wanted to go home when he put his hands on me and I didn't like it. Then, he grabbed my arm, squeezing until it hurt as he pushed me into the bedroom. I was instantly terrified, but I couldn't scream at first; I just told him I wanted to go home. I didn't even realize what was happening until my dress was over my head and my underwear was off my ankles." I said, willing Edward's eyes to stay in mine._

 _"I tried to cover my body, but he slapped me in the face just like you just did and he pinned my arms down above my head."_

 _Edward turned his head, his forehead wrinkled in revulsion._

 _It was harshly silent for a very long time. I hadn't talked about this in years, especially not so many details, so it stung to remember._

 _"I didn't understand why he still wanted to hit me if I was doing what he wanted. I wasn't even fighting anymore…" I recalled, tracing my fingertips across my face, remembering with a shiver._

 _Edward sharply inhaled, his eyes closing._

 _"No. Listen and look at me." I gritted my teeth, reaching to take his chin in my hand and force him to look at me – to look at the blood on my lip and think about what he'd done to me and what it meant to me._

 _"I can't, Rosalie. I can't hear any more. I'm sorry." He breathed shakily looking away again._

 _He couldn't stomach it._

Emmett had heard every detail and had stood by me, even when he didn't love me. Even when we were just strangers to each other... He knew of _all_ the dark moments of my life.

He shared in my very darkest…

I swallowed, my arms coming over my chest to grab onto my opposite shoulders as I hugged my knees to my chest.

I missed him. I closed my eyes and saw him. I inhaled, and I swore I could smell his skin.

But, I was still so afraid of how he'd look upon my face after all this…

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'm so sorry I made you go back to that place, Rosalie…" Edward said, his words ringing hollow as I lost myself in thought. "I can't imagine…"

"Stop talking." I ordered strongly, my eyes snapping open.

"I swore after that day that _no one_ would _ever_ hit me again, Edward, and today you made me break that vow to myself." I said, standing to my feet over him.

He looked up and I noticed tears on his cheeks.

It wounded me, but I remained strongly detached as I stood over him.

"Of all the vows I made, that one is the most important to me, and _I broke it_." I felt my blood boiling, and my heart pounded.

"Rosalie, I'm sorry." His voice was hollow and he sat forward on his knees to a pleading position in front of me.

"You were the one that _wanted_ to hit me, Edward." I pointed out, wanting him to wallow in the shame of his darkest impulses.

"I just want you to come home. Please." He took my hands like a devoted knight in front of his queen, holding onto my fingers with reverence.

I pursed my lips, looking out the window into the fading sunlight as I wrestled my hands out of his.

My mind was a tangled mess.

" _This_ is my new home." I said. "Now get up and get out of here. I don't want to see your face anymore."

I said this strongly and sternly, but he didn't back down yet again.

"You need _help,_ Rosalie. You don't know who you are anymore. You're lost. You've experienced so much tragedy and you lost your child and –" Edward practically screeched as he stood to his feet over me, but I wasn't intimidated and I cut him off.

"I know _exactly_ who I am!" I shrieked. "I am Rosalie. Devereux. Hale. I had my innocence _ripped_ away from me… and I have been underestimated, and misjudged my _entire_ life. I have been _betrayed_ and _controlled_ , but I _know_ what I'm doing. I am not a naïve little girl. I _never_ had the luxury of being one; so _don't you try to tell me_ what I've lost. I know! I've lost… _everything."_

"You haven't lost Emmett. Not yet. But, after this you could and you can't take that chance, Rosalie. _You can't_."

"I hate you!" I screamed, swiping my hands over the table so all the glass on it shattered to the floor. "Get _out_ of here, Edward."

"No." He said defiantly.

" _Get out_!" I shrieked. "You and I…. We're _finished_ being family. I hate you. Stop trying to tell me you know what's best for me! You don't know anything!"


	14. Don't Talk, Put Your Head On My Shoulder

_Hey Everyone! First off, thank you so much for your messages and reviews! I appreciate each and every one of them. I wanted to respond to some questions to begin. Yes, Edward and Rosalie are absolute monsters when they're both at their lowest, and I didn't really even get into it because honestly I was a little terrified to see how low I could go while writing. They're both dark, twisted people, but they're also just absolutely passionate, unique, and beautiful characters too so I hope you can grow to forgive them and love them once again! I hope you find some redemption in the coming chapters._

Next, I have some plans to explore Rosalie's relationship with her father, Robert, in some coming chapters. That relationship is just so sad and broken to me that I hope it can get some peace. When Rosalie was leaving for Paris, Emmett all but told him to back off. That definitely put a strain on it, and really solidified the fact that Robert saw that Rosalie was choosing her cold, absent, flighty mother to help her in times of tragedy instead of the father that had been there with her through everything and had pretty much raised her by himself.

 _Also, YES I'm getting into Emmett's background soon. Honestly, Emmett's background is one of the very first chapters I wrote. It was an interaction with him and his family and it really informed the development of his character in such an odd, backward way throughout the conception of earlier chapters. I just don't think it was right to begin with the depth and richness of his background, especially given his character's current tendencies to sublimate as he takes care of his wife, Rosalie, but it really does help to back up exactly why he is the way he is as you recognize him in the previous chapters. Don't worry, it's coming soon!_

 _And finally, I do use songs to introduce each chapter as a way to nod toward what I was listening to that inspired me to write the chapter, but also just really goes with the mood and content of the chapter. I hope you've enjoyed these little nuggets of personalization and you take a listen!_

 _NOW ON TO THE BUSINESS! This chapter was so long that I split it into TWO SECTIONS! I love and appreciate you so much I'll post them together. It's back to present tense where Emmett and Rosalie are coming to terms with the night's previous revelations. This chapter takes place as Rosalie is finished having her conversation with Edward and apologizing to Bella._

 _ENJOY!_

* * *

 _Don't Talk, Put Your Head on My Shoulder - The Beach Boys_

 _I can hear so much in your sighs_  
 _And I can see so much in your eyes_  
 _There are words we both could say_  
 _But don't talk, put your head on my shoulder_

 _Come close, close your eyes and be still_  
 _Don't talk, take my hand and let me hear your heart beat_  
 _Being here with you feels so right_  
 _We could live forever tonight_  
 _Lets not think about tomorrow_

 _And don't talk put your head on my shoulder_

* * *

 **Emmett: Knocked Down But Not Out**

 _Present, The Morning After_

I took a long drink of the coffee I so desperately needed after barely getting a wink of sleep last night. I spun in my desk chair in a desperate attempt to refocus my mind.

Even when Rosalie finally did come to bed, she wasn't sleeping; she was crying, and I couldn't process what all had transpired that evening so I couldn't bear the thought of sleep finding me either.

There was something so revitalizing about her cries that although it broke my heart to listen, it comforted me to know that she was _here_ and she was _healing_. She was letting herself come back to me. She had been so far away for so, so long and it looked like she was on her way home.

Needless to say, I was exhausted today, and that wasn't new, but something had changed last night – something was _changing_. After being stagnant for a year, something had chipped away at the dysfunction Rosalie and I had begun to accept as normalcy.

Something was changing, and I willed it to keep blossoming.

I closed a file folder where I was finishing up some case reading that was taking me longer than it usually did because my mind was running in a million different directions.

Thoughts of Rosalie consumed me every day, but today I was _especially_ concerned.

Last night after she had cried herself into exhaustion, we had laid in bed as we always did now out of habit, facing away from each other and not touching. Then, as the sun rose outside our window, I felt her hand on my back.

Her fingers were tender, testing, and so light on my skin that I thought I imagined it. I thought it was a dream so I slowly turned to lie on my back in the thinning darkness as my eyes adjusted to stare at the ceiling.

After a long moment, she just exhaled to get closer to me. I didn't dare look over at her and spook her away. She draped her arm over my waist and spread her fingers across my side as she pressed into an embrace we'd been long estranged from.

Her head ducked to press her cheek into my chest, and I reveled in the feeling of her breath on my skin. I closed my eyes and took a deep inhale as I put my arm around her.

It had been so long since I'd been close enough to her to smell the lavender in her hair.

She pulled herself nearer so I felt the warmth coming off her skin under the sheets and the contact of her across my side.

She started to kiss me, soft, sweet, but _sad_ …

Then, she took off all her clothes.

It didn't feel routine to be together physically in that moment. It felt _good_. It started to feel like _us_ for the first time in a long time.

I looked down on her afterward, trying to see anything different or alive in her eyes before I ducked my head to kiss her. Then, we detached from one another and remained wordless and without eye contact until the alarm clock went off.

Then, it seemed like it was all a dream.

She'd gotten up this morning with me, and had sat curled up on the sofa sipping hot lemon water silently as I got ready for work in the other room.

She ducked her head and scrolled through her phone as she did every morning, and I tried not to stare or act like I was expecting anything, but I watched her face for any little change anyway.

I wondered if this new day would be _new_ , or if everything was going back to how it has been this past year.

"What are you doing today?" I had asked her as I tied my tie.

Usually, she'd respond with a quick overview of meetings, fittings, projects, or workouts she had going on that day giving no greater details and I'd nod and say 'good' or 'that's great' or something of that nature.

I knew she had just finished New York's fashion week and was headed to Milan in a couple days for their fashion week, then she would go back to Paris for a couple weeks for theirs so things were getting pretty busy for her for the rest of the month.

But, she didn't say anything like that…

"I don't know yet." She sighed, furrowing her brow and keeping her eyes on her phone as she scrolled.

She said this like she was still deciding. I was desperate to know what was on her mind.

I waited, but the morning passed just as most mornings had for the past year - so _quiet_ \- and before I left I gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and she gave me the soft, removed smile she'd given me every morning since she'd come home from Paris.

It was like nothing had happened last night.

I tried not to be tragically disappointed, but I couldn't help it.

Then, after the initial disappointment subsided, I started to get _angry_.

This was not how this was going to be.

After a swift knock on my office door presently, Carlisle opened it and halted my musings.

"How's the Jackson case?" He asked as he entered.

"Fine. I have some notes for you." I said, standing from my chair reaching out to shake his hand.

His eyes flashed down to my bloody and bruised left knuckles at my side and I clenched my fist, my gaze darting down.

"What'd he do?" Carlisle raised an eyebrow.

"Said something about my wife." I smirked, knowing Carlisle was more likely to be proud of me than to scold me.

"Well, I see you got a good punch in." Carlisle put a hand on my shoulder and I chuckled before handing him a few file folders.

He reached for my coffee cup though, bringing it to his nose.

"No whiskey this morning?" Carlisle seemed pleasantly surprised and I felt my cheeks flush as I furrowed my brow. "I knew you seemed different."

"I didn't know you… um…" I trailed off, not knowing that he'd noticed.

"Of course I knew." Carlisle made me feel stupid as he accepted the file folders. "I wasn't born yesterday."

I sighed.

"Hey, as long as you got your work done and it was at the standard I'd expect from you." Carlisle clapped me on the back with a little smile.

"Your work never suffered." He told me again and sat down across from my desk, making himself comfortable so I knew he wanted to talk.

I just nodded before sitting down across from him, unable to meet his eyes yet.

"But you have been." He said and I shot my gaze up in questioning. "Suffering I mean."

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, thinking he was going to scold me on my contributions to workplace morale or something.

"I've known you since you were just a kid out of law school." Carlisle said, leaning back in his chair comfortably and staring up at the ceiling. "It's been what… a little over ten years ago now? You were just a kid… So young and so brilliant."

Carlisle chuckled, his eyes far away.

I didn't know what to say.

"It makes me feel old to think about, but I've watched you grow up, you know?" Carlisle smiled at me.

"You have." I said shortly with a quick nod.

"So it's been very hard to watch you go through what you're going through." His tone was serious now.

I was speechless, and I swallowed the lump in my throat as I looked back up over him.

"Thank you." I finally settled on saying.

"You seemed better when you walked in today." Carlisle noticed. "More like yourself."

"Well, Rosalie's doing better, I think." I responded, not knowing if what I said was true.

I acknowledged with that statement that her well-being was greatly indicative of my own. Well, it had been for so long.

How was she reacting now? What was going through her head? It was so hard not to be consumed by thoughts of it.

He smiled lightly, thumbing through the folder I'd just given him to look like he was focused on something else.

Carlisle knew everything he needed to know for letting me stay out for that month after we lost our baby…

He had let me off for much longer than was customary, and I appreciated him so much for that. He was the best kind of person to work with, and I knew that he didn't want an explanation for anything, but I still felt like I'd owed him one.

He'd taken care of me.

"You know my wife, Esme, don't you?" Carlisle asked in what seemed to be a tangential conversation, and I nodded remembering meeting her quite a few times.

Carlisle paused for a second, seeming to turn words over in his head and wasn't looking at me, but was still focused on the notes in his hand.

"I hope you don't think I'm overstepping by saying this," Carlisle checked, his eyes questioning as they found mine now.

"Not at all." I mumbled, confused at where he was going with all of this.

"I talked to her about you and Rosalie." He admitted.

"Oh," I breathed.

Carlisle knew Rosalie since I had – since she was fifteen years old on the day she came in asking for help all those years ago.

Rosalie spent her sixteenth birthday in a courtroom with Carlisle and I.

Carlisle thought that was so sad that he brought her a cupcake from Magnolia to celebrate before all the proceedings. She was so moved that she'd cried tears of joy and that was the first time I ever really saw her smile.

Carlisle had seen so much atrocity in court in all of his years in this profession that it shocked me he was showing any sort of emotional attachment because he insisted on staying professionally detached from clients.

There was something about Rosalie though that specially called for everyone around her to want to preserve her innocence, her softness, her tenderness, her gentleness…

"If it's okay with you, Esme wanted to invite you both over for dinner..." Carlisle added, seeming to tread lightly.

There was something about his tone that suggested there was a subliminal message.

I didn't understand.

"I think Rosalie would like that." I answered easily, but couldn't help but think about how she'd act – if she'd have an episode or act out being at a stranger's house.

Just yesterday, I would have believed it to be _certain_ that she'd flip out.

"Something inside me told me to tell you this today, but… Esme and I know exactly where you've been." Carlisle started, looking out the window. "So, we want you to know that you aren't alone."

I furrowed my brow and looked away.

"That's very kind of you to say." I mumbled, using any sort of recycled response I possessed over the sentiment.

I remained detached and removed, and a short silence followed as Carlisle seemed to turn over his words.

"Esme and I lost our son when we were about your age." Carlisle said solemnly. "He was four and he drowned on Memorial Day while we were out with our church group."

"I'm so sorry." I said in immediate response, a knot in my stomach as I looked back to him with searching eyes. "I didn't know."

"Not many people do." Carlisle said with a sigh.

I swallowed as I felt the pain of a wound ripped anew.

Our baby wasn't born; we couldn't know her and love her – only our imagined versions of her – so I was heartbroken to know they'd had four years to build an unconditional, unmatchable love for their son only to have it ripped away.

They thought he was safe. They thought he was theirs forever. It was all cruel and horrific, but something about that fact just killed me.

They'd never had any more children…

"When we finally got ready, we went to a really incredible counselor." Carlisle said, treading lightly.

I clenched my jaw as Carlisle put his hand in his jacket pocket to produce his wallet. He began thumbing through cards until he finally settled on a tattered green one and I knew his intent.

"Here," Carlisle reached out to me with a card that read Dr. _Vera Sawyer – PhD, LMHC, CCMHC, NCC_ and her office's address, phone number, and email address.

"It's in Tennessee." I frowned.

"Oh it's a little cabin in the mountains, far out from the town, free of distractions. It's really a wonder. You can go for a couple weeks and she'll refer you to someone in the city when you get back. I'll approve it if you want to take Rosalie."

I took the card as if it were some ugly, unidentified slimy creature – so careful. I felt a sour taste in my mouth, but I didn't know what I wanted to say.

"When you're ready." Carlisle qualified.

I didn't think we'd ever be ready. I felt my heart get heavier in my chest.

"There's nothing like the grief over a child." Carlisle nodded, crossing his arms. "Nothing in this world."

"No, there isn't." I said in a shaky voice. "But watching your wife suffer and not being able to do anything about it certainly comes in a close second."

Carlisle was greatly affected by this statement, and stood to put his hand on my shoulder in a gesture of support.

"That was the hardest part for me too." Carlisle said solemnly. "It still is."

I didn't know how to respond to this and so I remained quiet as his hand seemed to get heavier on my shoulder.

"But, I don't want you to feel like there's nothing you can do. There always is. Take her to get help. Rosalie trusts you. She always has. You just have to lead her."

I looked away, clenching my teeth together to think.

"I don't know..." I admitted under my breath, not wanting to admit any sort of inability to take care of my wife.

That was the hardest pill to swallow – my own incompetence. I was a fixer. I believed everything could be fixed. I could make _anything_ better.

It killed me to admit I didn't know how to help her.

"Rosalie is a smart girl. She knows the difference in you leading her and you controlling her." Carlisle said with wisdom threaded through his words. "Don't try to control her. _Lead_ her."

"What's the difference?" I huffed a little, frustration in my voice even though I knew he was right.

"Emmett McCarty that's probably the most disappointing question you've ever asked me." Carlisle took his hand off my shoulder and I felt my stomach drop.

It was intensely quiet for a long moment.

"When I met you for the first time, on that trip I made to Harvard during your second year… Do you remember?" Carlisle began but didn't wait for my response.

"I thought of you as some scrappy, underdog fighter that just wanted in the ring. You seemed to be hungry for a challenge – like you wanted to get your lights knocked out _just to prove_ you could get back up again. I didn't like that about you at first. I _really_ didn't like that about you." Carlisle shook his head.

This was the first time he was ever telling me anything like this and I didn't know how it all tied in to what we were talking about.

"It made me think you were just an arrogant, naïve challenger, wanting to prove that _you'd_ always be the one standing in the end."

I didn't respond, but I felt my eyes narrow.

"But, then, I saw something… I _noticed_ something rather…" Carlisle trailed off. "I noticed that because you were so _willing_ and so _ready_ for a challenge – You were so _eager_ that I knew that without a doubt you would saw your own arm off to give to someone if that was what it took to _conquer_ that challenge. I noticed that you would fight to the death for people, that you'd do _anything_ – even if it was self-destructive and what most would call a little _crazy_."

I felt a tug at the corner of my mouth.

"You're a _gladiator_ in the courtroom, Emmett, and _that's_ why I hired you all those years ago. You've been out for blood since I knew you because you look at people, you see them as human beings, but you also see them as challenges, and you don't think _any_ challenge is a lost cause for you. _Any_. You conquer challenges as a champion for people that can't fight for themselves like you know can fight for them."

My heart started to race, and I was nervous as he kept speaking.

"You became a champion of the people because you've _always_ believed in _yourself_. You've always believed in your ability to tackle any problem, to claw yourself out of any hole, to carry others when they can't carry themselves, to make the world better…" Carlisle was speaking freely, and I couldn't believe what he was saying about me.

I wasn't used to this sort of openness or praise so I felt my cheeks get hot with embarrassment. My lungs seemed to fill with new air and I let out a shaky exhale.

"Why did you stop?" Carlisle asked, pausing for a long moment as I searched for how to respond.

"Excuse me?" I said in a rough, scratchy tone.

"Why did you stop believing you were up for the challenge?"

I was stunned speechless and I felt my mouth hang open, incredulous at Carlisle's previous soliloquy and his biting wisdom.

He always knew what to say.

"Because this is something I can't just _fix_ , Carlisle." I exhaled.

"Why?" He puzzled.

"It's…. It's different."

"Why is it different?"

"It's too hard."

"Then you aren't who I thought you were, and I want you to pack up your things and go." He challenged me as he stood, and although there was a joking tone to his exaggerated over-reaction, something told me he was serious.

"What?" I was taken aback.

"I heard you promise Rosalie Hale in that boardroom down the hall that you were going to take care of her - that you were never going to give up on her – and she was just a stranger to you then." Carlisle stood tall and intimidating; he pointed fervently to the place I first saw her and knew she needed me.

"I heard you promise her those same things in St. Patrick's almost five years ago in front of God and your family as your _wife_ , so if you're not going to fight for your own wife after you swore you would, then you're not going to fight for anyone else in the state of New York."

His eyes were fiery and intense, and it sounded like an ultimatum.

"Are you _serious_?" I swallowed, halfway thinking he was just going to clap me on the back and tell me he was joking. "Have I not done my job? I've won _every_ single case for you this year, Carlisle. Is my work not good enough? I'll do better. I just…"

"No, no, I am serious. You're smart and you're _very_ good at what you do, Emmett, but that's not why I hired you. I have plenty of brilliant, practical, and experienced attorneys in this office that can win cases. I hired you because I thought you would never back down."

"I'm _not_ backing down." I said through clenched teeth.

"Okay." Carlisle shrugged. "I'll look over these notes, but you're going home for a long weekend. Unless you're in Tennessee, I'll see you on Monday – sober and up for a challenge again."

I sat in my office, stunned by what Carlisle had said to me for what felt like an eternity before my phone lit up with a text message from Rosalie at the same moment I'd realized….

 _He was right._


	15. Big God

_Big God – Florence + the Machine_

 _You need a big God  
Big enough to hold your love  
You need a big God  
Big enough to fill you up_

Sometimes I think it's gettin' better  
And then it gets much worse  
Is it just part of the process?  
Well, Jesus Christ, it hurts  
Though I know I should know better  
Well, I can make this work  
Is it just part of the process?  
Well, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, it hurts  
Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ, it hurts

 _Shower your affection, let it rain on me  
And pull down the mountain, draw your cities to the sea  
Shower your affection, let it rain on me  
Don't leave me on this white cliff  
Let it slide down to the, slide down to the sea_

* * *

 **Emmett: All the Saints**

 _Present, At the Cathedral_

I cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to sift through my thoughts before I could process her words on my screen.

She was at St. Patrick's. She asked for me.

Why?

Before the very first day of her trial, she had looked at me and told me she was scared. I told her I wasn't, to make her feel confident in me and safe.

She asked me if it was because I believed in God. I shrugged and told her I didn't know, but maybe.

She asked to come to Mass with my family and me at St. Patrick's to see. We'd gone to Mass together there ever since.

We'd gotten married at St. Patrick's. We'd planned the christening of our daughter at St. Patrick's…

Why was she there?

Just a half hour later I entered the cathedral on Fifth Avenue, dipping my fingers in holy water and making the sign of the cross. What was once so second nature now felt like a foreign gesture and it made my heart feel a little hollow that it was no more than that to me now – a gesture.

The cathedral was empty except for a few people scattered about praying and I found Rosalie kneeling at one of the pews in the very back left. Her head was bowed so her golden blonde hair was a curtain around her face and she had a rosary hanging from her wrist. Her fingers shook they were interlaced so hard in a praying position.

It made my hollow heart feel just a little emptier to see her like this.

As if she hadn't heard me approach, when I put my hand on her shoulder she flinched a little in surprise before looking up into my eyes.

"You came." She breathed in heart-shattering surprise, unweaving her fingers from one another.

I nodded before kneeling next to her.

She laid her head on my shoulder silently as we looked at the magnificent, glorious altar at the front of the cathedral for the first time in a long time.

I reveled in the feeling of her head on my shoulder and I thought incessantly about how much I'd missed her and how this small gesture was proof things were changing for the better.

Light poured in through the stained glass windows and I gazed upon the timeless, landmark depictions of Jesus, Mary, and the Saints, wondering what their persistent eyes thought of me now.

There seemed to be whispers coming from the stone, echoing up through the extraordinary Gothic arches, but I couldn't focus on any sound except for Rosalie's steady breath.

Then, I heard Rosalie take a deep inhale and I waited in anticipation for what she was going to say.

"Do you still believe all this?" She asked so quietly I could barely hear her.

She tilted her chin up and her eyes danced along the limitless ceiling as if she were going to find God in the cathedral's opulence.

I felt my tongue get heavy as if it were cast in bronze before I responded.

"I don't know." I breathed, following her eyes up and up and up.

I found nothing in the stone. I suppose she didn't either because I felt her eyes on my face weightily just a few moments later.

"I want to." Her voice was still soft, but I heard the burning desire loud and clear.

I looked over at her, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the storminess in her irises.

"Why?" I asked, genuinely.

She swallowed, looking up again. This time she closed her eyes.

"I need to believe in _something_ again."

There was a gaping hole in her and she was searching for something to fill it. I saw that clearly.

"I believe in _you_." I said assuredly. "I have always believed in you."

Rosalie seemed unsure or unable to process my sentiment, and tucked her hair behind her ear, looking away with a furrowed brow and a contemplative look in her eye.

She turned the rosary over in her hand, looking at it with an examining gaze.

All the hurt, denial, blind drunkenness, and suppressed anger bubbled up through my throat and pushed into my words.

"Why did God let this happen to you, Rosalie?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.

She looked back at me with wide, open eyes, her bottom lip trembling.

"I've been trying to understand why would He take our baby away." I rephrased, noticing the shake in my voice. "I don't understand it. I don't. I don't understand."

She watched me wordlessly, putting her hand on top of mine.

"Why?" I exhaled.

"I don't know." She finally said, and I noticed tears rolling down her cheeks as I turned back to look at her.

" _I don't know_." She repeated, her voice a little more high-pitched.

"I can't… I can't make any sense of it." I felt my voice getting shakier in response to the tears that freely streamed down her face.

Then, I exploded into words that poured out of my mouth like a running faucet.

"I followed _all_ the rules my whole life; I was a good Catholic. I was a servant. I believed, I studied, I gave more than I got, I followed and I listened and I did it _all_ right. No matter what happened, I believed, but where has He been, Rosalie? Where? I know it's not supposed to be good and perfect and wonderful all the time, but I just want it to be _fair_. It's not fair. Rosalie, it's not fair. It's not _fair_. He _abandoned_ us if He's even there at all." I claimed boldly.

Rosalie was quiet except a few inhaled sniffles that signaled she was still crying as

we both stared at each other. Time only seemed to pass in as we noticed people shuffling, getting up and leaving, coming in to pray, lighting candles, crying, rejoicing.

Our eyes never faltered from one another's until finally she seemed to be finished downloading my anger into her database.

I saw her crying, but I didn't reach out to help her.

Her hands came up to the base of her neck, high on her heart as she finally closed her eyes after what seemed to be an eternity of reflection and thought. The curtain of long black lashes did little as a makeshift dam for her tears, and they still ran sad little streams down her porcelain cheek.

"Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani." Rosalie's tone was ghostly and emotionless as she spoke the words 'My God, My God, why have you forsaken me' as Job and Jesus both did.

Things most definitely weren't fair for them. They remained faithful. They remained devoted servants.

Rosalie seemed to declare the same with this historic and important outcry.

I shouldn't have questioned her faith while she was still in such a rocky place. She needed this.

She felt forsaken…

And, I was admitting I did too.

I looked over at her with unnatural slowness to the turn of my head. I felt my lungs shrivel and refuse oxygen as I gazed upon her broken face. I felt my heart being twisted and wrung out of any blood and life left as I saw the pain and abandonment in her soul.

Then, for the first time in front of her I felt tears starting to push at my own eyes.

I ducked my head into my hands, my elbows on the pew in front of me as I started to cry for the very first time in front of her.

The cathedral was too quiet and so my cry of weakness and hopelessness seemed to echo through the entirety of the space and I willed myself into silence, but I couldn't.

I couldn't do it.

I didn't want to know what she thought as I cried next to her so I kept my face covered and turned from her, but everyone on Fifth Avenue and probably every Saint in heaven heard me.

If God didn't hear me now…

"Come here," She said evenly after a moment, but I didn't.

I couldn't think about anything except how much I wanted to stop crying.

"Em, come here." She begged in a velvety voice. "Please."

I finally turned toward her as she sat up in the pew and I sobbed into her lap.

I couldn't catch my breath, and I'd never remembered crying this hard in all of my life. Even as a kid.

She ran her hand through my hair and I inhaled at the feeling. Again and again, she traced her hands through my hair and I felt my breathing start to return to normal.

"You're in pain…" Rosalie said softly, observing as if for the first time.

Her eyes were tortured and perplexed as she looked down at me, and her beautiful forehead creased with worry.

"I'm supposed to take care of you." I finally said through ragged breath. "I'm supposed to protect you and provide for you and…"

She just kept silently trailing her fingers through my hair and across my neck in a subtle comfort.

"You trusted me to take care of you and I let you down. I failed you and I can _never_ forgive myself. I wasn't… I wasn't strong enough to take care of you or make you better…. I couldn't do it."

I took a deep breath before she ducked her head to kiss me quickly. I hated the look in her eyes.

"I think you should leave me, Emmett." Rosalie finally said in a painful sigh.

"What?! No." I responded, shaking my head fervently. "I'm not doing that."

"Em, just listen to me." She said placing her hand on top of mine. "Listen. Please."

Her eyes were vibrant and intense.

"What happened to last night when you said you wanted to make this work?" I locked my gaze in hers, refusing to be intimidated out of eye contact as she no doubt assumed I would be.

Then, her eyes dropped as she lost her own challenge.

"What'd _you_ think of last night?" She pushed, twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

"What are you talking about?" I knew what she was talking about.

"When we had sex, what did you think?" Rosalie seemed to be testing me with a right answer and I hated when she did that.

Her eyes were cold as sapphires as I looked at her.

"I thought… it felt… like _us_ again." I wasn't going to retract my gaze, but I felt it falter slightly.

"It did." She almost smiled, but there was tragedy in her tone. "It really did; it was good, and right, and… but, _after_ … right before you kissed me that last time…."

Rosalie swallowed and her expression vastly changed.

"I saw it. I saw it in your eyes…" Her bottom lip trembled and I saw hurt and heartbreak in her gaze as she looked at me. "You were looking at me like I was wounded. Like, I wasn't okay… Like it was temporary… Like you were… Like you were _scared_ …"

I clenched my hands into fists, looking away.

"You look at me like I'm breakable all the time." She accused in a mumble.

"Because you are, Rosalie, and that's okay. Why wouldn't you be? I'm still _worried_ about you."

"Stop." She closed her eyes tightly. "Please. Stop."

I felt my heart in my stomach.

"But, it's not that." Rosalie seemed to backtrack and try to readdress the tangled mess of her thoughts. "It's not that I… It's what it's all done to you."

"What are you talking about?" I pushed, my heart sinking lower.

"I love you… God, I love you so much, Em." She said through lightly gritted teeth, then sighed as if that was difficult to express. "So, I can't watch you be destroyed by me."

My blood boiled.

" _What_ are you talking about?" I raised my voice slightly as I repeated this and the priest widened his eyes and hushed me.

"I'm tired… I'm so _tired_." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm so tired of pretending that I don't see how I've absolutely sucked the life out of you with my unhappiness. You need to leave me."

"Rosalie, you're saying things you don't mean." I tried to get her to think.

"No, I mean every word." She said intensely, finding my eyes again. "I'm still so unhappy, so _angry_ , so… _sad_. I'm not letting all that destroy you any longer."

"Well, you can get through this. You always do. You're going to be okay." I said, brushing her hair off her face.

Something about the clarity in her eyes was terrifying to me. She looked like she was cognizant in all of her words…

"Maybe, but I can't drag you down with me." Rosalie said. "Em, I _want_ you to leave me."

"Rose, baby, stop talking. You really don't know what you're saying." I said, a little panic rising in my voice.

 _Did_ she know what she was saying?

"You're still trying to protect me."

"That's what we do. We protect each other." I took her face in my hands.

"Well, then I'm trying to protect you _from_ _me_." She said with passion and sureness in her voice.

"No." I shook my head. "No, you're not doing this."

"Emmett, you're an attorney so you know how easily we could get divorced." She said clinically.

The air was sucked out of the world. I heard my heart beating in my ears. My lungs felt so heavy I thought they'd rip through my chest.

" _What_ did you just say?" I breathed.

"I don't want anything from you. We signed a prenup. The apartment's in your name. You can have it. We can have the marriage annulled in the Catholic Church if you want. It'll all be so easy." She mumbled.

"Rosalie, _no_." I breathed.

"You need to get away from me." She said. "I can't stop… It's like I can't stop hurting you. We should get a divorce."

"You're just _making_ this decision for us?!" I practically yelled, getting hushed by everyone in the cathedral as I sat up beside Rosalie in the pew willing her to make some sense. "You didn't _ask_ me. You didn't talk to me."

"Em, I…"

"Don't. No, Rosalie… You're _always_ making decisions and you don't _think_ about any of them! You decided to leave and go to Paris. You decided you didn't need me and you decided that when you got home that everything was _fine_ and we were ready to have another baby."

" _What_?!" She practically screeched.

" _You_ decided that, Rosalie. I wasn't ready to come to terms with it all yet. I wasn't _ready_. But, you didn't talk to me about _any_ of it. You never even asked! You just _made the decision_!"

"I was not the one _deciding_." She protested, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's _always_ been on your terms, Rosalie. Always!"

"I didn't ask for this! I wanted it to be _easy_! I didn't know it was going to end up like this…" She lashed out, waving her hands animatedly now.

"Let's talk about this. Please." I responded just as animatedly.

"I _can't_ talk to you!" She raised her voice to match mine and I thought that we were going to get thrown out of the church for sure.

Everyone was staring.

" _Why_ can't you talk to me?" I asked quietly.

"Because… Because I know what you're going to say." She said as a single tear raced down her cheek.

"Then what am I going to say?" I challenged.

"That it's all going to be okay… But, it's _not_. Look at us, Em. Look at us!" She started to cry. "How…. How did we get here? All we do is _hurt_ each other."

It was silent for an eternity as I turned those awful words over in my mind.

"Is this _really_ what you want?" I couldn't hide the shake and sadness in my voice.

She barely nodded.

"You want this?... You _really_ want this?..." I asked at last after a long silence. "Because you're certainly doing a good job of hurting me _now_."

"I'm so sorry." She sighed, and stood from the pew, turning her back and walking away.

After a short moment of not thinking it through and making a rash decision, my heart beat in my ears as I angrily followed her out of the front doors of the church.

I stormed after her and grabbed onto her arm, whirling her around harshly.

"No." I commanded, staring down at her with a punishing glare not caring that we were in the middle of Fifth Avenue and people were watching us. "You know what, I'm not letting you do this."

"Let me go." She grimaced, turning her head and trying to wiggle out of my grip on her.

Her eyes seemed to dance for any paparazzi or anyone with a cell phone that recognized us.

"No, Rosalie!" I raised my voice and I saw some people begin to turn toward us in concern, but I paid no mind. "You're going to listen to me. I'm _not_ letting you leave."

"Em, you're hurting me." She started to whine with wide eyes and I knew she was just using my sensitivity to this issue, so I didn't let her go, I just shifted my grip to her shoulders.

"I'm finished babying you and giving you whatever it is you want, Rosalie. I'm not doing it anymore." I raged on. "Telling you what you want to hear is _not_ working, so you're going to listen to me."

"Okay." She nodded, completely unfazed.

"I am _not_ letting you run away from me! I refuse to let you think leaving each other is the answer." I yelled at her, but she didn't cower from my intensity.

Instead, she contested my eye contact and clenched her jaw defiantly.

"You're staying right here. You're staying _with me_ and we're going to figure out how to live together again." I said and she wiggled out of my grip, but I maintained.

Once I knew she wasn't going to run, I released the tension to tenderly take her face in my hands.

" _I need you_." I admitted to her at last. "I _need_ you, Rosalie. I can't live without you. I'm _not alive_ without you. I can't be happy without you. I need you to stay. I want you to stay. I _deserve_ for you to stay _for me_ because I've spent so long obsessed with what you want and what _you_ need. Well, now I need _you_. _I_ need you, so please… Please try. _I_ need you to stay."

She didn't back down even as I stood over her. She wasn't afraid or intimidated by me at all. My intensity rarely fazed her.

Something about that made me want to kiss her right here, but I was too frustrated.

"I have no idea what to do for you. _No idea_!" I roared, tossing my hands in the air in surrender and letting her go. "I have no idea how to _help you_ or make it better. I don't know how to fix this. I don't know what else I can do... But, _I_ need you, Rose… And, I'll fight for you, even if it's _you_ that I'm fighting."

I wanted to kiss her so bad.

"Please, I need you so much. We can go get help. Let's go back inside and find a priest. We can get help… But, _I_ don't know what to do for you anymore and _I'm sorry_. I'm sorry I let you down, but I'll fight for you now. Rosalie we can't do this…. We can't be apart. _I need you_. "

Rosalie stayed stone still, but her lips pressed into a line determined not to shrink from my rage.

She opened her mouth to speak.

"No. I'm _not_ finished." I snapped at her, and she blinked at my indignation.

"I _always_ know the right thing to do… I always know what path to take, what solution fixes a problem… I _always know_ , but I _don't_ know how to fix us, Rose. I don't know…. I don't know what to do. I don't know what the right thing to do is… I don't know _anything_." I couldn't catch my breath as I spun out of control.

"Dammit Rosalie, I _love_ you. That's _all_ I know anymore." I screamed, throwing my hands down by my sides violently. "I love you so much and even if there's nothing I can do, I just want you to stay. I don't know what to do anymore. I _don't_ , but I know I love you and I can keep on loving you through whatever it is. Please…"

She was silent, but I noticed her eyes were full of vibrant color in response to my mad ravings.

"Now please… Please say something Rosalie. Please." I practically begged her.

I felt as out of breath as if I'd just run a marathon.

"There's nothing I _can_ say." She breathed and her violet eyes danced over my face.

She didn't turn and leave like I thought she would.

"What do you _mean_ there's nothing you can say?" I challenged her since she was still here. "There's _plenty_ you can say, you're just refusing to see that I –"

She cut me off with a powerful, passionate, ravenous kiss as she threw her arms around my neck. She stood on her tiptoes as she crushed her body to mine, starving for closeness. I inhaled her, and every cell of my being was magnetized to her.

Rosalie's body melted into mine, and my hands relearned the curves of her neck and waist as I held her to me. She climbed so her legs were wrapped around my hips, gripping tightly and pushing for intensified closeness. I pressed my hands into her back and she breathed deep into the kiss.

We consumed each other like a blazing fire until she pulled away to look at me.

"Do you have a car here?" She asked, her chin low and her eyes stormy.

"Yes?" I questioned, but she jumped down from my arms and took my hand, lacing her fingers through mine and squeezing tightly.

"We're only four minutes from the house, baby." I said, tilting my chin down.

"I can't wait that long." She said in a lengthy sigh and I thought I had died and gone to heaven as she pulled on my hand.

I lead her down the block at practically a jog and the driver, Frank, opened the door for us with a knowing redness on his face as he looked away. Neither Rosalie nor I even noticed.

Rosalie and I climbed inside the car wildly, and before Frank had even settled in his seat, Rosalie had my tie off and had started unbuttoning my shirt.

"Just drive." Rosalie commanded, slipping her own shirt over her head.

I reached over for her as the partition closed.


	16. Call It Dreaming

_Hey! Thanks so much for your patience. I've been trying a new medication that has made it a little hard to sit down, clear my head, and write. I know it's been a while, and that's a little personal to say, but I really do appreciate this outlet for my mental health and want you to know how much I value you reading my work!_

 _I appreciate your time waiting for this chapter, so here's a two-parter! I wrote this to really contrast two vast chapters and seasons in life and to showcase how time passed for them._

 _So, I have been really interested in the enneagram for the past year and I love using it for character development. I have identified as a Type 4 with a tendency to wing toward 3, which is what I write Rosalie as. Rosalie has always been the character I most like writing myself into, and this story is no different._

 _In this story, I thought it would be really nice to write the other characters as distinct enneagram types. I really encourage you to go research on the Enneagram Institute website!_

 _In this story, I write Rosalie as a 4 with a 3 wing (like myself);_

 _A 4 according to the Enneagram Institute is: "_ Fours are self-aware, sensitive, and reserved. They are emotionally honest, creative, and personal, but can also be moody and self-conscious. Withholding themselves from others due to feeling vulnerable and defective, they can also feel disdainful and exempt from ordinary ways of living. They typically have problems with melancholy, self-indulgence, and self-pity."

 _I'd love for you guys to guess what I have written the other characters as... I feel like it'd be fun to guess if you want to research. Obviously, I am not certified or anything so it won't be perfect caricatures of the types, but I just thought it was interesting._

 _Also: side note about a review comment; I'm not going to go back and edit any of my other fanfics just due to sentimentality reasons. I wrote Breaking the Impossible when I was 12 years old, so I know it's not A+ writing or story structure. hahaha It was just something I did for fun in school when I didn't have much else. I know it's not "good" by any means, but I loved writing and escaping in middle school when the world seemed like a pretty dark and unfair place. I still write for that same reason!_

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

Call It Dreaming - Iron & Wine

 _Where the sun isn't only sinking fast_  
 _Every night knows how long it's supposed to last_  
 _Where the time of our lives is all we have_  
 _And we get a chance to say_  
 _Before we ease away_  
 _For all the love you've left behind_

 _You can have mine_

* * *

 **Alice: Christmas Eve With New Family**

 _Five Years Ago; Christmas Eve_

Bing Crosby played over the speakers and I exhaled, relaxing as Jasper grabbed a glass of champagne off the tray making its rounds around the room.

He grabbed me a glass of water since I was about to pop, being 8 months pregnant, and we grinned as we clinked our glasses together in celebration.

I was blissfully happy, my husband beside me looking dashing in a tux. I smoothed my hair that I had slicked back to showcase some ruby earrings that looked positively perfectly festive against my crimson velvet floor length Valentino gown. I thought a baby bump and a handsome husband were the perfect accessories this year for the VOGUE Christmas party.

It was probably going to be one of our last outings in a while without a child and as much as I thought about motherhood and imagined loving it, I reveled in the opportunity for Jasper and I to have each other's undivided attention.

We swung in each other's arms happily until a big bear hug caught Jasper from behind, spinning him around with a chorus of laughter.

"Would you _please_ put me down, you savage?!" Jasper guffawed as Emmett McCarty beamed, rough-housing with him like they were a bunch of children outside in a field instead of in a room full of the snobby fashion elite.

As Emmett finally set him down, Jasper popped him on the back of his head, trying to retaliate. Emmett swiftly pulled him into a _friendlier_ bear hug this time.

You'd swear that by their reunion they hadn't seen each other in years, when in reality they'd seen each other just last week.

I found Emmett's other half, and the girl I was quickly starting to call my best friend, Rosalie, on the other side of the room talking with Anna Wintour. She kissed Rosalie on both cheeks, and Rosalie started over toward us with a beaming smile.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, even more than I remembered. She looked as stunning as ever in a strapless champagne colored and crystal-beaded gown that looked like liquid on her body. The color of the dress almost perfectly matched her marble skin, so she looked totally nude but sparkling.

Rubies and diamonds dripped off her ears and collarbones and wrists, and I wondered if the jewelry was on lend because she had to be wearing more than a few tens of million dollars.

But, even if that jewelry wasn't hers, that Harry Winston diamond engagement ring and matching wedding band was and it was _not_ to be upstaged as she came over and threaded her arm through Emmett's.

Rosalie rolled her eyes, but smiled a full, beautiful smile up at him.

"I can't take you anywhere." She bit her lip, grinning as he kissed her on her waiting mouth.

Her golden blonde hair was twisted off her long, swan's neck into an up-do that made her angel's face look even more heavenly as more rubies and diamonds wove through her hair.

Rosalie had always been beautiful, but she was radiant in this moment. Married life agreed with her.

And, there was a glow on her face that could only be found on a girl that was having good sex.

I looked away from her with a little laugh to myself.

"Now you actually have to claim him as your husband." Jasper wiggled his eyebrows. "Sure you don't want a refund?!"

Emmett stuck his tongue out like he was a ten year old schoolboy and Jasper chuckled.

"Hmm… I don't think so." Rosalie grinned, hugging to his side and looking up at him with wide, receptive eyes. "Plus, I think my warranty window is up. It's been more than thirty days. No refund."

Emmett laughed, full of humor and she blushed a faint scarlet. There was color and vibrancy in both of their faces that had never been there before.

I smiled.

They definitely were still _deep_ in the honeymoon stage. They looked at each other with so much love it overflowed into the room, and I found Jasper's hand reaching toward mine in response to their radiating affections.

Jasper and I were still, in a sense newlyweds, but something about being next to Rosalie and Emmett reminded us exactly what it was like to be falling madly in love.

Jasper winked at me. It was still hard to believe our very best friends had found each other in this world and gotten married so blissfully.

This was a dream.

Jasper and Emmett had been friends since Jasper's very first day in the city. Emmett had been standing outside his office building, trying to quit smoking – a bad habit he picked up in law school - but was grandly failing while he watched Jasper turn around and walk back and forth down the street.

Jasper was completely turned around and lost on his first day at his internship, completely frustrated that he was going to be late.

'Are you lost?' Emmett had finally asked, noticing Jasper's running in circles but also his interesting choice in footwear: cowboy boots.

(Thank God that he 'lost' them our very first year of dating. I'd actually just thrown them out, but I'd never let him know that.)

Jasper had said something sarcastic about walking into the same cloud of smoke 7 times; Emmett had laughed and offered to walk him there and the rest was history.

Emmett had invested into Jasper's restaurant to help get it off the ground a little less than a year ago, and I'd recruited Rosalie to help with publicity as an influencer. Jasper and I didn't even think about how Emmett and Rosalie had known each other before, but when we saw what it was like when Emmett and Rosalie reconnected with each other at Jasper's restaurant opening on Mardi Gras it was obvious that _something_ was going on between them.

For the five years I'd known him, Emmett had spent most of that time with a girl on each arm. They rotated frequently, and he had always been detached like he was just trying to have fun. I tried not to judge, but he was pretty much a nightmare. From the outside, I saw girl after girl fall for him regardless of his upfront honesty about not wanting anything serious, and I would've felt sorry for them if he kept them around long enough for me to learn their names.

However, very uncharacteristically, he showed up to Jasper's restaurant opening alone and wasn't remotely interested in talking to _anyone_ there.

He was polite, of course, but there was something about the way he talked to the women that would approach him or that were friends of mine that made him seem unavailable... It made him seem spoken for. It made me curious…

For a month, Emmett hadn't even looked at a pretty bartender, or responded to a flirty waitress each and every time we went out. I waited, but there was still nothing. He'd been different; he'd been _… lovesick._

I would've never guessed in a thousand years though that Rosalie Hale had been the reason why.

When Emmett saw Rosalie at Jasper's restaurant, for the first time in his entire life it seemed that he was too afraid to tell a girl he wanted to be with her. I'd never seen him that way - so at a loss for words - and I'd never seen Rosalie so girlishly nervous so I knew they just needed a push in the right direction.

That's where I came in of course, so I had to take a little credit for the way they smiled at each other right now. I helped this relationship get off the ground.

It was amazing to see just what could happen since that day just a less than a year ago… Jasper and I got married in April; his restaurant was written about in a number of magazines and food blogs so it quickly became a New York staple; we moved into a new apartment in August, Emmett and Rosalie got married in November; Rosalie also made TIME's Most Influential Teens list that same month; Emmett was published in Harvard Law Review again at the beginning of this December; I got promoted at VOGUE this last month and I was going to have a baby in January; and we were all quickly becoming more than _best_ friends.

We were becoming a _family_.

"I'm so happy for you Alice." Rosalie squeezed me tightly and I noticed she smelled like lavender and Emmett's cologne. "My dad just told me that you got a promotion too."

"I did." I grinned.

"Alice, that's incredible!" Rosalie squealed with happiness.

"Yeah, boss lady!" Emmett grinned and I reveled in their approval.

"It's nothing." I blushed a little, but I really was very proud of myself.

How many women could say they were having a baby and getting a promotion in the same timespan? That really proved to me that I could do this.

Jasper smiled down on me in perfect pride.

"We have to celebrate!" Emmett twirled Rosalie under his arm kissing her again.

"How is the little one?!" Emmett asked, kissing me on the cheek now.

I was _almost_ used to how much Emmett kissed everyone. I swear he'd kiss Jasper if he let him.

"Oh, life couldn't be better!" I grinned, 100% sincere in my sentiment. "Well, when he gets here it will I guess. But we still haven't decided on a name."

Everyone around me was happy. That made me happy.

"You could always name him after _me_." Emmett suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"That's nice." I smiled, rubbing my hands in a circle over my stomach.

"Jasper, I'd _kill_ to hear you pronounce my Cuban name every day of your life in your Southern accent." Emmett laughed.

After knowing Emmett for a few years, I knew he was secretly very insecure about his own accent, but you'd never know it with how he teased Jasper about his.

The thing _I_ found most amusing about Emmett's accent is that he learned English in _the Bronx_ of all places, and to me, a Manhattan native, that was barely English at all.

After a while of hearing him say the same word five different ways in just one conversation, I noticed how those sharp consonants and dropped 'r's from the Bronx fought directly against the soft consonants of his Cuban Spanish. It honestly depended on the moment what accent would show up on Emmett's mouth.

Of course, I never said anything. But on the other hand, anytime Jasper would attempt saying anything remotely Spanish, Emmett cracked up. He tried to hide how hilarious he found this and actually help him with pronunciations, but Jasper's Southern accent ran too deep.

I hoped our kids picked up Jasper's accent. It was so charming.

"I wouldn't want my kid named after you anyway." Jasper narrowed his eyes jokingly.

"He should be so honored." Emmett responded swiftly.

There was that Bronx accent.

Rosalie furrowed her brow.

"Wait, so, this is not your real name?" She asked like she didn't know.

I mean, neither of us did either until Jasper straight up asked why Emmett his name wasn't 'Spanish sounding' a couple years back. I had slapped my hand to my face thinking Jasper was being ignorantly rude, but Emmett thought it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

Still, I pinched Jasper anytime he unconsciously said something that could cross the line.

"Yes, it's my real, _legal_ name now." Emmett shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "I thought you'd have _guessed_ that Emmett McCarty wasn't my given name if I was Cuban. That's the _whitest_ name ever. Jasper even figured it out."

Jasper and I laughed lightly.

Rosalie frowned.

"I'm sorry baby; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It's just really not a big deal." He kissed her pouting lips, but she wasn't satisfied.

"Why did you change it?" Rosalie asked, but Emmett didn't seem to want to get into any stories.

"It's my dad's name." Emmett said shortly.

He was so open about e _verything_ , that it seemed odd he had limits, but this was apparently one of them.

I knew he called his stepfather his dad, and that his biological father had stayed in Cuba when his mom had taken Emmett and his little sister and come to America; that's all we really knew.

"Peter?" Rosalie seemed to know this much.

"Yes. Emmett is his first name." Emmett nodded, seeing that Rosalie was fixated, but he wanted to move on.

"Why didn't I know any of that?" She asked like she was hurt by the apparent secrecy.

"It hadn't come up." He shrugged it off.

She seemed genuinely upset, and he noticed with alarm.

"It's okay. No one really knows that. We have another sixty-odd years to learn everything there is to know about each other before you either get bored of me or my brain turns to noodles when I'm an old man and you're still young and beautiful."

This seemed to comfort her shallowly, and he kissed her quick.

"What was your name?" She asked, this seeming to be her end goal.

"Emilio Velazquez." Emmett answered plainly and quickly like he was talking about someone else. "Now _you_ say it, Jasper."

Emmett turned to Jasper, joking around with him. Jasper dodged Emmett reaching to thump him with a laugh.

"Our husbands are children. _Actual_ children." I turned toward Rosalie.

She smiled now, seeming happy, but her violet eyes were still a little _off_.

"It's normal not to know everything about each other, you know. I learn new things about Jasper every day. We've been together for… close to _five_ years now."

Rosalie exhaled, seeming to be comforted by this notion.

"Oh thank God, I was worried." Rosalie puzzled.

"It's a learn as you go kind of thing." I said with a nod.

I didn't mention that she seemingly rushed into marriage, and that not knowing each other might be a byproduct.

But, who was I to judge?

"I don't know if I'm doing this whole _wife_ thing right. I hope I am at least."

I laughed.

"Oh honey, there is no right way." I took her hands in mine. "But, I'm sure you're doing fine."

She looked so young and naïve looking over at me.

But, there was something in her eyes that shocked me even more.

She was eighteen years old so how on earth did she know what she wanted? In her eyes, I saw she was sure. She was convicted. She was intent. And she was all of these things so fiercely.

Rosalie knew without a shadow of a doubt she was meant to love Emmett and he was meant to love her. There was not a trace of insecurity in her eyes. She knew it was etched in stone, written in the stars, tattooed on her skin.

That firmness made me have to take a deep breath it was so overwhelming to witness.

"How's married life treating you?" I asked as Jasper and Emmett got caught up discussing the contents of some Game of Thrones episode.

Rosalie lit up with a grin, her cheeks turning a light scarlet with overzealous joy.

 _Now_ , she looked vibrant and youthful and carefree.

She bit her lip then stepped closer to me like she was telling me a secret.

"It's better than I ever could've imagined." She sighed. "I don't know how people stop."

I widened my gaze, not knowing if I was jumping to conclusions about what exactly she was enjoying out of married life.

Then, she cleared it up that it was exactly what I thought.

"No one told me it was this _good_." She spoke candidly and with vivid, fiery eyes. "Alice… Alice, it's _amazing_."

She giggled, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh my God…" I rolled my eyes, laughing at her fixation.

Then, I realized… They'd waited. That was so _sweet_ that I almost couldn't process it. I definitely didn't think Emmett had it in him so he must actually, genuinely love her – or he just slept better at night knowing she was eighteen.

I reminded myself to roll my eyes at him later.

Anyway…

"I _love_ being married." She grinned, biting her lip again. "I don't know why anyone gets out of bed though – ever."

"We don't all get paid $10,000 just to get out of bed like you do." I winked. "We have to go do normal people things like work. Normal people can't just have sex all the time."

She shrugged, not denying it. She really did get paid that much just to get out of bed, most of the time much more than that.

I heard she was on track to becoming a billionaire before twenty. I mean, she already was with her father's money of course, but this was completely on her own. She was on track to _singularly_ be a billionaire with her own money before she was twenty.

That blew my mind.

I didn't even want to think about she and Emmett's combined net-worth. They probably had enough money between them to own half the country.

 _They would never want for anything in their entire lives…_

"My ears were burning." Emmett winked, wrapping his arms around Rosalie.

"Rightfully so." She turned toward him, reaching to push some of his unruly hair back near his ear.

His smile was childish, and dimples indented his cheeks. God, he really loved her.

Jasper put his arm around my shoulder kissing my cheek.

"Did you decide who the rightful leader of Westeros is?" I asked, alluding to their conversation about Game of Thrones.

Emmett went to open his mouth, but Jasper held up a hand.

"Please don't get him started on Daenerys Targaryen." Jasper rolled his eyes.

"That's what _I_ said." I held up my hands and Emmett nodded in fervent agreement.

"I'm telling you, Starks rule all. The North will rise!" Jasper said passionately, then we looked to Rosalie for her opinion.

"I haven't watched any of it." Rosalie admitted with a wrinkled nose as she looked up at Emmett.

"You'd definitely agree with me, baby. I mean, you _are_ a Khaleesi." Emmett kissed her.

Jasper made a groaning sound of disgust, then Rosalie's aforementioned father, Robert cleared his throat as he approached, announcing his presence to his daughter and her new husband that he hadn't decided if he approved of yet.

Rosalie seemed blissfully unaware of the awkwardness between them, or was in denial of it. Either way, she didn't acknowledge it.

"Daddy!" Rosalie beamed, throwing her arms around his shoulders in delight.

Robert smiled a wide, harmonious smile as he hugged onto her – the whole world in his arms.

Robert _adored_ Rosalie. I suppose that's why he was so protective and careful of another man entering her life.

Could anyone love her as much as he did? In my opinion, Emmett would do a pretty grand job of it.

Emmett stepped back just a bit, keeping his eyes down because he still wasn't sure how to treat Rosalie's father.

Undoubtedly, that was a royally awkward situation.

"Where are Elizabeth and Edward?" She asked with searching eyes.

She and her stepbrother Edward were very close, and he had begun to fit in perfectly with Jasper and Emmett. I heard the three of them got a drink last week, so it made me happy to see a little group forming.

"They're back at the loft. They've got some Christmas Eve traditions of their own." Robert told her. "I'm headed back soon to catch the end of It's A Wonderful Life."

"We'll be there tomorrow morning for breakfast." Rosalie assured him, looking over to Emmett.

"Oh, good. Now, let me look at you." Robert said, taking her hand and a step back so he could admire her dress.

"You look like a dream. I love the way Ralph Lauren looks on you, princess." Robert said and she did a happy twirl.

"There better be a write-up in VOGUE." Robert winked at me.

"You know there will be." I laughed as he kissed me on the cheek. " _Everyone_ wants to know what you're wearing, and of course they love your newest accessory."

I winked at Emmett, and Emmett smiled sheepishly not seeming to want to point out this fact to Robert. I thought it'd remind Robert it was a good thing for Rosalie to be seen in love. It made her look human and real, which is usually where she struggled in the public eye.

"I mean, doesn't she look gorgeous?" Robert seemed to ask rhetorically, but his eyes went to Emmett as if it was a test.

Rosalie hugged to his side and Emmett nodded.

"Always." He said easily, unwinding his arm from Rosalie and extending his hand to Robert.

Robert shook his hand, a little smile on his lips. Undeniably, he saw the absolute joy in Rosalie's eyes and that couldn't be argued with. His daughter was happy. That would be enough to win him over.

"How are you?" Emmett asked politely.

"I'll be better once I have a drink in my hand." Robert winked in good humor. "What do you say to a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no." Emmett smiled, childish dimples appearing on his cheeks.

He seemed to take a relaxed exhale as Robert put his hand on his shoulder.

Rosalie smiled, seemingly perfectly content.

"So, what does your family do for Christmas, Emmett?" Robert asked openly now.

"Well, we'll go to midnight Mass with them tonight," Emmett didn't seem to know what else to say.

Robert, Edward, and Elizabeth weren't very religious, but Emmett and Rosalie seemed to be.

"You should invite them over for breakfast tomorrow! Elizabeth and I are cooking."

"Oh, well in that case." Emmett laughed, but seemed to be treading lightly.

"Hey, I can make some pretty amazing pancakes and waffles." Robert raised an eyebrow at his doubt.

"Alice, Jasper… Why don't you stop by too?!" Robert suggested now.

He had big plans, and I just laughed, rubbing a circle on my stomach.

"That _does_ sound good." I looked up at Jasper.

We were having dinner with my parents tomorrow, but his parents were waiting to fly in closer to when the baby was born so we were free.

"Our home is always open to you. Rosalie has always wanted a big family, haven't you sweetheart?" Robert kissed her temple and she smiled lightly, her eyes darting to Emmett then away. "I would've loved more little ones running around. If I didn't hate your mother so much we might've had more kids."

"Dad." Rosalie scolded with intense eyes.

Her mom hadn't shown up to her wedding and Rosalie had yet to even get a card...

I think she may have gotten a text message recently, but that's about it. I didn't understand her mother one bit. She completely denied that Rosalie was her child.

That undoubtedly messed Rosalie's head up.

"But, I'm in no rush for grandchildren though. I'm way too young for that." Robert said intensely, but really meant _Rosalie_ was way too young for that.

"Dad!" Rosalie shrieked with wide eyes this time.

Dimples appeared on Emmett's cheeks, but he was looking away, seemingly lost in enjoying the thought of a big family.

I had to admit, family did sound pretty good to me too.

* * *

6/10 - dodie

 _I feel like a six out of ten_  
 _I've gotta get up early tomorrow again  
_  
 _What goes on behind the words?_  
 _Is there pity for the plain girl?_

 _Can you see the panic inside?_  
 _I'm making you uneasy, aren't I?_

* * *

 **Alice: Love Died on Valentine's Day**

 _Valentine's Day Party; This Past Year_

Jasper handed me a glass of water as he grabbed some champagne from the tray making its way around the room and we clinked our glasses together in celebration.

A crooning young woman in a red dress sang My Funny Valentine soft and sweet and I reveled in the happiness I felt swaying in Jasper's arms.

It was hard to believe we had a baby on the way. I was just a little more than half way through term and this one was definitely another surprise, but I had to admit – I was excited for another little girl… Having two under two though, I wasn't as excited about that part.

But, I was lucky. My baby and I were both healthy…

I watched the door; Rosalie had been gone for close to three months after what happened to her and I watched the door, knowing she should be here eventually. I was really nervous to see her, but I wanted to look in her eyes and know she was as okay as she had seemed on social media and in the tabloids and in the magazines.

Rosalie had been photographed landing at JFK just a couple weeks ago. Shockingly, she'd chosen to forego walking or even visiting New York Fashion Week so this VOGUE party was necessary for her coming back into New York society. She'd had plenty of French campaigns in the past few months and every designer was dying to have her in their shows in Paris, so returning to New York fashion would of course still be easy for her.

She was the prodigal fashion princess after all.

I watched the door, and I didn't seem to be the only one. No one would admit they were wondering what was going on with their precious icon, Rosalie Hale, and if they did know they weren't talking about it. Nonetheless, everyone was hanging on a moment to see her.

I thought she'd grandly enter the room with fireworks soon.

I couldn't imagine what she'd been through and was still struggling with. Emmett had made sure that no one was allowed to talk about it anymore, with all but a gag order. Everyone was fine abiding by that because they couldn't imagine the pain of bringing it back up to her, but I didn't know if that would make it better or worse to see her and know everyone in the room was holding onto the same secret.

Either way, I continued to watch the door with the side of my eye the entire night. She had RSVP'd that she was going to make it, and I knew she wouldn't miss an opportunity to network and party with everyone at VOGUE, but it was already 9:30 p.m. and the party had started at 8.

Rosalie's father was even here and he _always_ showed up fashionably late. He had been invited for years of course and knew he was always welcome no matter what time he showed up. With one of the biggest fashion empires in the world and a supermodel as an ex-wife and an even bigger supermodel and public figure as a daughter – he was aware he was an outstanding piece of social capital.

Robert had kissed me on both cheeks and acted like everything was perfect when he shook Jasper's hand earlier.

Now though, he was in the corner pacing, his phone to his ear and an expression on his face that strongly suggested he was talking to the center of his galaxy, what his entire universe revolved around, gravitated toward and tilted on its axis to worship – his daughter. He cupped his hand over his mouth as he talked, his wife and his stepson Edward looking uncomfortable and detached from his social circle.

They had no one to talk to it seemed and as Edward met Jasper's gaze he made a face.

Poor Edward.

I knew he felt undeniably out of place – coming from a Chicago suburb with little to no interest in the world of Manhattan royalty that his stepfather thrust his mother and he so confidently into.

Edward made a tight smile toward Jasper and I as we hob-nobbed with a few creative directors.

I tried to send an inconspicuous wink of encouragement in his direction, hoping he felt it.

With Rosalie and Emmett here, Edward usually felt a little more included. He and Emmett were next to inseparable at things like this and with how charismatic Emmett was, it made fitting in very easy for anyone who was around him.

Jasper seemed just as worried about Emmett as I was about Rosalie and I saw his eyes glance toward the door every so often.

I didn't know what it meant for their marriage that Rosalie left for three months and Emmett stayed in New York as they both grieved in their own way, but I couldn't begin to imagine dealing with something like that as young as they both were and as much tragedy they'd already both known so familiarly.

"Alice, if you're not worrying about your children or your job, you're worrying about Rosalie." Jasper said, knowing the reason for the expression on my face.

I chuckled lightly, trying to let it go.

Then, I saw her enter just as gloriously as I imagined. Emmett was on her arm in a perfectly tailored tux with a smart bowtie. Robert Hale's newest designs of course. His eyes were on Rosalie as they walked and he kissed her on the cheek. Flashes of cameras caught just how perfectly festive they looked for this lovers' holiday.

Rosalie's hair was so blonde now it was white and it flowed down her back in perfect curls toward the bottom of her spine to make her look ethereal and Rapunzel-like. Her flawless, glass looking skin was pale and starkly contrasted by the chic black velvet dress she was wearing.

It must be Saint Laurent. I saw she'd spent a lot of time with Anthony Vaccarello while she was in Paris.

The neckline plunged to her naval and the back was open to the last possible place. The black velvet clung to her skin like liquid and I swear everyone's eyes were on her for more than just a few reasons.

The padparadscha sapphire her father gave her hung around her neck, glistening in the light.

Her violet eyes were piercing and stormy against her white skin, but something about her didn't look like herself.

And… she looked unhealthily thin…

As Rosalie stopped to get a kiss on both cheeks from Anna Wintour, I exhaled and started to relax.

Overall, she looked _okay_ …

I mean, as okay as you could look after losing your own child.

Everyone in the room seemed to look at her, but no one would talk about whether they knew what happened to her or not. An entire year of her life was ultimately for all intents and purposes…. _Erased_.

"Oh my God…" Jasper half-groaned.

Then, I _really_ saw them.

My eyes _really_ found Emmett standing next to her and I sighed in sympathy before I could even think to mask my reaction. The year that had been erased for Rosalie weighed heavily on him and the saga seemed to be written across his forehead.

He stumbled, his eyes glassy and drunken as Rosalie clenched her jaw and clawed her bony fingers into his arm – holding him up and masking it as affection as they networked with the top of the tier.

The bones in her chest protruded dangerously and I thought her shoulders were going to puncture through her skin. Every vertebra was visible down her spine and her eyes looked sunken in her head.

Emmett looked like he had joined the legion of the undead. His own eyes were blank and exhausted. There were dark circles seemingly tattooed under them and it was only intensified by the fact that he was already 3 a.m. drunk and it was only 9 p.m.

Rosalie's father swooped in to intercept them - his expression pleasant as he kissed Rosalie on her sunken, pale cheek. She barely shrunk away, whispering something in his ear and then smiling pseudo-pleasantly.

I noticed the dark circles that created a purple halo around her violet eyes too.

Robert nodded and clapped Emmett on the shoulder in what appeared to be a friendly gesture but was really an intervention due to the tightness in Rosalie and Robert's smiles.

Edward turned on his heel, seeming to purposefully leave as Rosalie and Emmett approached, but not before shooting Rosalie a malicious glance.

Rosalie lunged for Edward, seemingly wanting to start a fight, but Emmett grabbed her arm, yanking her back. Robert's mouth was agape that Emmett had grabbed her like that and started to scold him. Now, Rosalie seemed to be defending him.

In what seemed to be blatant removal, Emmett's chin tilted down; he looked sincerely off balance before he grabbed a glass of champagne off the waiter's tray and Rosalie didn't hide her disdain as he brought the glass to his lips.

He wrapped his arm around Rosalie's shoulder with a wide grin in her direction that was most definitely not reciprocated.

Her eyes were cold, and she said something through a scary smile of gritted teeth that seemed venomous even though I couldn't hear it.

After taking a drink, he said something that made her shove on his chest and she reared her hand back as if to slap him.

I didn't know what I expected out of their first public appearance together, but this was still shocking and difficult to watch.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist to keep her from hitting him. It was too loud in the room to really hear them fighting, but it was starting to catch some attention as they spat horrible words back and forth to one another, letting it get a little too physical as they fought.

He never hit her, but he grabbed her face to get her to listen in a way that made Robert push him back to check himself. Emmett held up his hands in obvious apologetic surrender, but Rosalie reached around her father to eventually full on smack Emmett in the face, full of hate.

He stumbled back, but I don't know if that was just because he was drunk or Rosalie really did hit him that hard.

I watched Robert pull on Rosalie's shoulders so she'd step back from Emmett's harsh gaze, but she wriggled free of her father's grip on her to keep yelling at Emmett. She reached out and pointed an accusing finger in Emmett's face as she frowned and continued her grievances.

He stumbled and she eventually caught him with a cold expression. Then, he hugged her and she surrendered into his embrace as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek that she'd hit not even a minute ago.

Robert wasn't able to keep up and neither were any of the other nosy onlookers.

"I'm going to see them." I told Jasper, taking his hand and bringing him with me to snake through the crowd, taking advantage of the short break in their fighting.

He came with me in ultimate support and the same anticipation and ache for our friends.

"Rosalie!" I said, and even though I tried not to sound too excited, I still squealed her name.

She smiled in my direction, but it didn't touch her violet eyes and she still kept an arm around Emmett's waist to hold him up, her shoulders hunching only slightly as she carried the weight of his arm around her.

"If it isn't Jazzy and Ally!" Emmett laughed in a slur as we approached, unwinding his arm from Rosalie and taking an off-balance step forward, some of his drink spilling over the rim of the glass as he opened his arms to Jasper.

"I've got him." Jasper mouthed in Rosalie's direction from inside of Emmett's bear hug.

"Welcome back to America!" I said, trying to remain light.

Rosalie sighed without saying much.

"Rose…" Emmett hiccupped, stumbling back to look at her. "I just _love_ you, baby…"

"What can I do?" I asked her softly.

"Just straighten his tie..." Rosalie said softly.

I noticed just how different her voice sounded…

A stranger inhabited her body. Her violet eyes had no familiar light in them.

Emmett kissed me on the cheek to greet me and I caught how much he smelled like alcohol. He barely protested as I reached to help with his tie, and Rosalie caught sight of the baby bump under the fabric of my dress and her eyes immediately went dark.

She searched my face, wanting confirmation. No doubt she saw it in my eyes.

Irrationally, I immediately felt terrible, like I'd betrayed her.

"Rosalie, I…" I began, not knowing what I was going to say next.

I noticed her expression iced over and she seemed to be processing.

"I'm sorry." I said senselessly. "It was an accident."

I had nothing to be sorry for. It was foolish to feel guilty.

"A _baby_?!" Emmett looked at Jasper with an empty grin, throwing his arm around his shoulder in congratulations.

Jasper's eyes darted to me, checking. This was terrifying.

"Yeah..." Jasper said simply, not wanting to expand any further in special care of their reactions.

"That's such _good_ news." Emmett went on and kissed Jasper on the cheek in apparent drunken happiness.

"Oh my God." Jasper couldn't help but laugh now, wiping his cheek off.

Rosalie remained standing still as stone, her eyes icy. Emmett had played into Jasper's happiness, but I noticed he was still watching her protectively.

Emmett stood by, seeming to stay ready to pounce at whatever reaction she had.

Like I told Rosalie, it was an accident. We didn't exactly plan for this third baby, but Jasper and I really were happy and we wanted another kid eventually… I know it made Jasper feel more rooted in New York having a big family like the one he'd left in New Orleans, and I'd always wanted brothers and sisters because I was an only child and it got lonely when my parents would work long hours.

I wanted this baby, and I…

Wait.

I didn't have to _justify_ myself to her.

But, it was senselessly tragic what happened to them and I felt like I'd been so insensitive. I was a terrible friend. Getting pregnant right now is probably the worst thing I could do.

It was cruel…

Jasper sensed that I was beating myself up mentally and so he put his arm around me.

Emmett's hand reached for Rosalie tentatively, but her father spoke up.

"Aren't you so happy for your friend, Rosalie?" Robert guided her, keeping his eyes scanning between all of the people in the group now.

"Congratulations, Alice." Rosalie mustered a tight smile.

Her eyes were so intense that I had to look away.

"Thank you." I said softly.

"Isn't that just so wonderful, Emmett?" She looked over to him, and something about her tone terrified me.

It was too soft. It was too sharp. It was too much…

"The most wonderful." He said with a little smile, his hand on her shoulder.

She stayed tense, but he stayed close.

Emmett tilted up his glass, finishing it completely and slapping it down on the waitress's tray that passed by to swap for a fresh one.

Robert watched him closely.

Rosalie's eyes shot daggers at him and she clenched her hand in a fist around the fabric of his shirt.

"For God's sake Rosalie, I _wasn't_ looking at her." Emmett defended himself fervently tilting up his glass. "I only look at _you_. I only look at you."

Rosalie was still removed, scarily removed from every bit of her emotion but she possessively fought for Emmett's eyes, threading her arm around his waist and latching to his side.

She'd always been a little jealous of his attention, but now she had a _starvation_ for it. Rosalie wasn't satisfied until Emmett looked over at her and kissed her telling her that she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen or something like that.

I wondered fleetingly what they were fighting so viciously about just a few short moments ago that now seemed to be so insignificant.

They never used to fight. It seemed so foreign and so odd.

"You'll have to tell me all about –" I started trying to divert attention.

"It's a little girl." Rosalie declared, unwinding her arm from Emmett and looking into my eyes spookily.

She reached to put her palm on my stomach, not biting at the attempt for distraction.

"I can just feel it." She breathed.

The next week when I went to the doctor, I found out she was right.

Rosalie looked up to Emmett now as he brushed her white-blonde hair off of her neck.

"We'll have a baby soon too, won't we? They'll be darling playmates and grow up together… Won't that be nice?"

"Yeah. Whatever you want." Emmett said robotically, but kissed her cheek in perfect compliance.


	17. Faith

_Thank you so so sooooo so much for your patience. As I said in the last chapter, I've been trying a new medication that has made it a little hard to sit down, clear my head, and write. I know it's been a while, and that's a little personal to say, but I really do appreciate this outlet for my mental health and want you to know how much I value you reading my work!_

 _I appreciate your time waiting for this chapter, and your kind reviews! Thank you so much for everything! I really do want to encourage you to leave your thoughts about each chapter in the review section. It really motivates me when I think people care what I write!_

 _For a little fun, I'd like to hear what YOU'D LIKE TO READ in a future chapter! Some criteria is that it doesn't happen in the present or change any of the plot points in place. For example, I'm thinking of writing a chapter on the moment when Emmett tells Robert he wants to marry Rosalie and develop some of that relationship and story. Let me know what YOU want me to expand on or what character relationships you'd like for me to explore in a future chapter! I will write as commissioned an idea from the reviews and shout you out at the beginning of the chapter! Thanks so much! Please let me know!_

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

 _ **Faith – Sleeping at Last**_

 _Well I guess it would be nice_

 _If I could touch your body_

 _I know not everybody_

 _Has got a body like you_

 _But I've got to think twice_

 _Before I give my heart away_

 _And I know all the games you play_

 _Because I play them too_

 _Oh but I need some time off from that emotion_

 _Time to pick my heart up off the floor_

 _Oh when that love comes down without devotion_

 _Well it takes a strong man baby_

 _But I'm showing you the door_

 _'Cause I gotta have faith_

 _Baby_

 _I know you're asking me to stay_

 _So please, please, please don't go away_

 _You say I'm giving you the blues_

 _Maybe_

 _You mean every word you say_

 _Can't help but think of yesterday_

 _And another who tied me down to loverboy rules_

 _Before this river becomes an ocean_

 _Before you throw my heart back on the floor_

 _Oh baby I reconsider my foolish notion_

 _Well I need someone to hold me_

 _But I'll wait for something more_

 _I gotta have faith_

* * *

Rosalie: Coming Clean

 _Present_

I let the water run as I wiped my hands over my face then stared at the white tile, lost in thought.

Mostly, my thoughts were just a deep tangled mess. I needed to sort through them. Things were coming back to me little by little, as if I'd just woken up from hypnosis. I tried to recall who I was before all of this… Who I wanted to be before it was a feat just to get out of bed in the morning.

How deeply I could love before my heart was ripped clean out of my chest.

 _This shell wasn't me._

But, what if it was who I'd become?...

"Rose?" Emmett's voice came from the door.

" _Please_ don't ask me if I'm okay." My heart raced and I clenched my fists. "I will kill you in your sleep."

I willed him to swallow the words. He was going to ruin everything.

After the ordeal at the church, we'd been tangled up in each other, not worried about anything else.

I ran my fingers across my lips thinking about the way he kissed me. He _really_ kissed me, holding nothing back in fear of my fragility.

I was enchanted.

My hands trailed across my neck, my collarbone, down the center of my chest. I felt him everywhere.

I didn't want to leave that ecstasy.

"I wasn't." He said from the bathroom door with a little laugh. "I wanted to join you."

I exhaled, almost feeling a smile on the corner of my lips as I saw him.

"Fine." I said shortly, feeling my wet hair sticking to my skin when I turned so my back would be to him.

I smiled now, really smiled as I heard him behind me but I hid it quite well.

Then at last, he touched me.

His touch made me shiver and he smirked at this as if he'd won a contest.

"Getting a divorce is a stupid idea isn't it?" He asked and I clenched my jaw.

"I don't know." I said, hating that he wanted to talk about it so quickly.

But, that was the truth. I _didn't_ know. I hated hurting him and that's all I ever did.

There was something wrong with me.

He needed to get away from me before I really did suck all the life out of him – all the joy, and goodness that made him who he was.

"I can keep trying to convince you otherwise." Emmett said confidently, turning me around so that my back was against the tile and his hands were on either side of my shoulders.

I inhaled, looking up into his eyes and feeling weak at the knees.

Standing in the shower together, I couldn't think about anything else.

As he ducked his head to kiss my neck and he touched my body with an expert claim of it, I melted in his hands. I brought my hands to his back, pulling him closer to me. The water ran through my fingers and down his skin and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so blissful.

Well, I take that back - a half hour ago to be quite honest. Twice.

I felt him smile against me and as much as I loved feeling him close to me, I wanted him closer and closer still.

"We're _so_ good together, Rosalie." He said in a low voice that made me ache for him in a way that felt like it came from my very core.

I couldn't spend another second waiting.

I wrapped my arms around him so our bodies were intertwined once again and he pressed my back into the tile. As he kissed me, I trailed my hand down lower.

Then he smiled and pushed me away.

"Now, are you listening to me?…" He smirked like he was in on a secret that I wasn't.

I felt woozy and lightheaded that he'd ripped me from my high so abruptly.

"Emmett…" I half-groaned, hating that he manipulated me so easily.

"I'm not having sex with you like this." He shook his head in playful disdain.

"Then how do you want it?" I used his own phrasing against him and I saw his eyes flash with all of the dirty possibilities.

Taking advantage of this I tried again, and he laughed a low, growling laugh before kissing me once more, moving my hand. This was a different kind of kiss, one that meant he was done with me.

"Emmett, _please_?" I knew he couldn't resist me when I looked at him like this and asked for it like this.

He looked over my body with hungry eyes that made me confident and happy, then he let out a frustrated exhale and looked away from me.

I reached up and turned his face so he'd have to look at me again. My smile was gone now, but he was in good spirits.

I frowned.

"I'm not letting you just use me for sex, Rosalie." He said, smiling like he was joking or that he couldn't believe what he was saying.

"Why not?" I pouted.

"Because I _love_ you." He laughed as if he was amused with this conversation.

"Well, I love you too. Now, please." I kissed him but he pushed me away again.

"I can't tell you how hard it is to say no to you…" He shook his head, looking up at nothing in the sky. "

"Then, say yes." I used the voice I reserved exclusively for him in moments like this.

He cursed under his breath, laughing and shaking his head.

"No. Rosalie, listen. I want you to stay. I want _you_. But, I want to know you aren't trying to distract me every time we have sex. Or sublimating. Or trying to say goodbye."

I stopped, turning my head.

"Or testing me." He said, kissing my neck with a little smirk. "If I'll please you enough to make you wanna stay for some more?"

"Well, if it was just that, you know you'd pass with flying colors and I'd never leave…" I huffed unwillingly with a roll of my eyes and he laughed freely, throwing his head back.

I tried so hard not to smile. It had been so long since he'd laughed like that.

It absolutely filled my cells.

I looked at him, no stared at him.

"What is it?" He smiled.

"I missed you." I said immediately, throwing my arms around his waist and pressing my cheek to his chest.

It was such an instinctual reaction that I shocked myself.

I closed my eyes as he kissed my forehead.

"I've been right here." He said.

This made me pull away to look at him.

Had he? Had he really been right here and _I_ was the one that had been missing? Had we both run far away and now we were coming back to meet in the middle? Whatever it was, we were operating on the same frequency in this moment and it felt so rare, yet so anciently familiar.

"I don't know if I know where I am." I breathed and he brushed his hand over my face tenderly to try to comfort the disturbance so evident in my voice and probably my face.

"I'm looking at you, Rose. You're right here. You're with me." Emmett said, kissing my forehead sweetly.

He took both my hands, resting them on his chest.

I followed my hand with my eyes as I traced it over his chest, right where his heart would be. I watched the water race down his skin before I opened my fingers, spreading it across where I imagined his heart would be beating. I swallowed, but the lump in my throat pushed me to ask.

"Where is your heart?" I asked softly.

I looked up to his eyes, some questions stirring in them. Then, he said just what I imagined he would when I asked.

"I'm looking at it." He said in easy response.

He brushed his hands along the side of my face and down my wet hair along my back. I closed my eyes taking a deep breath before I opened them again as he took my face in his hands willing me to be locked in his gaze.

I kept my hand on his chest.

He had given _everything_ to me. He had taken his heart clean out of his chest and put it into mine when my own heart was too broken and tired to keep beating. He had given me his heart and now that I was living and breathing, I wanted to give him back half.

Two years ago, when Emmett and I had come home from a New Year's Eve party where we had drunk a little too much champagne, he'd looked at me with those deep amber-brown eyes and said 'I want you to have my babies.'

I remember laughing, and not really taking him seriously at the time, but that was the first night we officially _tried_ to have a baby. It only took a few months before I started to obsess over it because of my own vanity and inability to accept that it was something I couldn't do.

We had everything we could ever want. We had more money than we knew what to do with. We were in love. We were beautiful. But, it was just us…

Emmett had gone through everything with me, carrying my burdens as well as his own. He took care of me when I couldn't take care of myself. He sat next to me in doctor's visits.

He talked to therapists when I wouldn't even show up. He ate what I told him to eat after I'd read some obscure fact about fertility and food in a book. He indulged me in following along with the instructions of wives tales and legends. He hurt just like I hurt, but he had to carry my hurt too.

I had asked him to carry me through these past few years, and I hadn't even thought about just how heavy I had become, with my demons, my hurt, my pain…

"I don't know who I am when I'm not in pain." I admitted softly.

"I'll help you remember." He said, kissing my fingers with wide eyes. "One day at a time."

"You must be so tired of taking care of me." I refused meeting his gaze.

He remained silent for a very long time, so I knew that must've been true.

"Rosalie, I know what you're trying to do." He said evenly, cutting me from my contemplations.

My eyes shot back up to his, searching.

"What are you talking about?" I questioned.

I hated how he knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

Most of the time though, it was refreshing.

But the look on his face made me think I wasn't going to like this very much.

"You're pushing me away." Emmett observed.

I swallowed, still looking up at him.

"You're pushing me away and you're asking for a divorce because you think that's going to fix everything, but it's not." Emmett said plainly.

"I don't want to talk about this now." I sighed as I turned away, but he took my chin guiding it with his fingertips so I'd be looking up at him.

"But we have to, Rosalie. We have to." There was an edge to his voice.

I clenched my teeth together because I couldn't consciously form words and I was scared of what might tumble out of my mouth.

"You think that I'm miserable being around you and I won't be better until I leave you." Emmett went on.

"Like your mom…" He said, and it felt like I'd just been hit by a train instead of his words.

"What. Did. You. Say?" I asked through my gritted teeth.

Emmett took a deep breath, knowing he'd hit a nerve.

I only saw red.

"I'm not Camille, Rosalie. I _want_ you. I _chose_ you." Emmett took my face in his hands tenderly. "I'm not leaving you."

"I know you're not my mother." I furrowed my brow, thinking what he was saying sounded absolutely absurd.

"You can't pretend that's not what you're trying to do. You may have just been a kid, but you knew she was miserable and didn't want to be a mother. You think that's what made her happy – leaving you behind."

I pushed him away, stepping out of the shower and throwing a towel around me.

"Rosalie, stop." Emmett reached out, his fingertips grabbing for my hip.

I hugged the towel tight to my chest, staying on my warpath.

"Rosalie!" He called after me again, following me now.

I heard him click the water off, buying me some time to slam the door to our bedroom in his face.

I turned the lock.

"Rosalie, open the door, baby." He banged on the door with his fist, passion in his voice. "Please."

I stayed on the other side, backing away as I heard him jiggle the handle.

My lip trembled and tears threatened to push out of my eyes.

Was he right?

I forced the thought from my mind as I shut my eyes tight.

"Rose, listen to me. I'm sorry." Emmett said, his velvet voice full of tension. "That came out wrong."

I paced, unsure of what to think.

"I just meant that _I'm_ not better without you." He shoved his foot in his mouth again. "God, I meant that you can't think leaving you is going to solve anything for me like… like it did for Camille. She pushed you away and so now you're pushing me away."

I sat down facing the door, water dripping from my hair dripping in a puddle on the floor behind me.

My silence only fueled his raving.

He knew me well enough he knew I was sitting here watching the door.

"Rosalie, for Christ's sake, open the door." Emmett begged, nervousness in his voice. "I don't know how to say what I'm trying to say. I just know I love you and leaving you is the worst idea you've ever had because I have loved being married to you. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'd take it all – even the bad parts over not being with you for even one second."

This pleased me of course, but I hugged my knees to my chest, stubbornly.

"I know your mom left you because she was unhappy in your family and that you think she's better off without you, but Rosalie that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. _No one's_ world is better without you in it. You're a… You're a little sunshine, and I'd just be all out of whack without you to orbit around and…"

I smiled, standing up and going to stand with my hand on the lock. Even though that was silly and odd, it was pretty romantic and he was trying so hard.

Maybe he was right…

My heart raced. He saw through my iciness. He wanted to work through things with me and he knew me better than I knew myself…

"God, that was so dumb. Rosalie, just open the door so I can kiss you." Emmett pleaded, somehow sensing that my resolve was weakening before I even turned the lock.

I heard him inhale on the other side of the door before he turned the handle, opening the door slowly into the room where I stood waiting for him.

Before the door was even all the way open, his lips met mine.

I tossed my arms around his shoulders.

"There's my girl." He smiled against my mouth and put his hands under my thighs to lift me up so my legs were wrapped around his waist.

"Please, don't ever leave me." I pulled away just enough to look at him, and my voice sounded so vulnerable I almost didn't recognize it.

Emmett kissed my face and then my lips, looking at me with open amber eyes.

"I won't." He swore, taking a hand to brush over my head then cup my face to pull my chin forward for another kiss.

"Don't ever shut me out again." He said with the strength of a command, but in a tender voice as he kissed me.

His words weren't meant literally, though the illustration was certainly good enough.

I couldn't respond, thinking of the euphoria of him lowering me into the sheets.

He kissed my neck, positioned over me and holding himself up on his hands so his body wouldn't crush mine.

I pulled down on his back; I wanted to be crushed.

"Rosalie, don't _ever_ shut me out again." He said, taking my face in one of his strong hands so I had to look straight into the depths of his brown eyes.

"I-I won't." I breathed, shivering with anticipation for him.

Emmett absolutely overwhelmed me, and my love for him was heavy. My lungs filled up with air that had him in every particle.

"E-Emmett?" I started between kisses.

"Hmm?" He kissed my jaw and my stomach twisted nervously.

"Wait." I breathed.

He waited.

"I don't want to go to Milan." I said, and my throat went dry as soon as I said it.

Emmett didn't respond, but his kiss lingered on my neck like he was listening.

"Or Paris." I swallowed, and at this, he pulled away to look at me with large brown eyes.

I was denying Milan and Paris fashion week. For what? I didn't know. But, I couldn't do it. Saying it out loud felt liberating, like I'd made the right decision. Why? I didn't know yet. But, there was an odd sparkle in his eye as he looked at me.

He knew I had _faith_ in us again. I found faith in him.

"Why?" He asked, his voice low.

"I don't know yet." I admitted. "We just... we have some stuff to work out and I want to be here with you and..."

"Let's go to Tennessee together. Tomorrow." He blurted out, pulling away so we were both sitting up tangled in the sheets on the center of our bed.

"Tennessee?" I half-chuckled. "What's in Tennessee?"

"Vera Sawyer. We need to meet her." Emmett said, taking both of my hands with burning amber eyes.

"Vera Sawyer?" I raised an eyebrow. "Who is that?"

"Have a little faith, okay?" Emmett sighed like this was important and I nodded, trying to blindly trust him as he led me.

"Okay." I agreed. "Do you want to drive there? It'd give us a chance to talk and..."

"I don't know how to drive." Emmett laughed. "Who knows how to drive in New York?"

"I do. Sort of. I mean, I have my license." I shrugged.

What was I thinking? Driving across the country?

"Well, okay. That settles it. You're driving." Emmett grinned, amused obviously.

"I can teach you if you want." I said with a bashful smile.

"I like the idea of you driving." Emmett said with a wink.

"Okay." I nodded.

"Okay! We're doing this." Emmett's grin spread and I kissed his cheek where that darling dimple indented his skin.

"Okay!" I giggled as he kissed me.

"God, I love you so much, Rosalie Hale." Emmett took my face in his hands and we tumbled back into the sheets.


	18. Wild Is The Wind

_Hey everyone! Please please leave a review to let me know your thoughts! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! Thanks so much!_

 _Just as a reminder:_ _I'd like to hear what YOU'D LIKE TO READ in a future chapter! Some criteria is that it doesn't happen in the present or future or change any of the plot points in place. For example, I'm thinking of writing a chapter on the moment when Emmett tells Robert he wants to marry Rosalie and develop some of that relationship and story. Let me know what YOU want me to expand on or what character relationships you'd like for me to explore! I will write as commissioned an idea from the reviews and shout you out at the beginning of the chapter! Thanks so much! Please let me know!_

 _ **WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER:** I have never written anything like this so please don't judge... I do try to keep my stories rated T so there will never be anything bold and explicit, but this has some suggestive themes in it as it's about Rosalie and Emmett's wedding night. You can imagine what further ensues... ;) Skip it if you don't want that in your life! But, I thought it was a good way to explore back into the foundation of their relationship and explain a little about how intense they are about each other._

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

 **Wild Is The Wind - Nina Simone**

 _Love me, love me, love me, say you do_  
 _Let me fly away with you_  
 _For my love is like the wind_  
 _And wild is the wind_

 _Give me more than one caress_  
 _Satisfy this hungriness_  
 _Let the wind blow through your heart_  
 _For wild is the wind_

 _You touch me_  
 _I hear the sound of mandolins_  
 _You kiss me_  
 _With your kiss my life begins_  
 _You're spring to me_  
 _All things to me_

* * *

Emmett: With You Not To You 

_Five Years Ago, November_

I opened the door to my apartment only slightly insecure about its contents now that I was looking at it through a new lens – that I was no longer living here alone.

It definitely was minimalist and entirely undecorated. I was severely lacking any sort of interior design sense, but none of that bothered me before when it just functioned as a bachelor pad.

My sister had brought the plant that lived in the corner, and told me I only had to water it once a month so maybe I could manage that. I didn't really manage that so it was a little withered now by the window. That window now thankfully distracted the eye from the dead plant with a view of the beautiful skyline of a bright city.

I had a shelf with an eclectic collection of books stacked every which way, a black leather couch, a dark wood coffee table, another lighter colored couch, a lamp, and that's about it.

I probably only had beer and Thai leftovers in the fridge too…

Because of all of this, it was hard to believe I was currently carrying Rosalie Hale over the threshold as my wife.

The day of celebration had passed in a whirlwind and we'd actually had a lot of fun at our impromptu wedding today. Most people say that their wedding day goes by so fast that they forget to enjoy it.

I think we were a couple of the lucky ones. We savored every moment, and indulged in the details. I wanted to remember every single look on her face. She had never looked more beautiful, more confident, more sure of herself, more _happy_ than she did today, and we'd planned it all just 10 days ago.

Granted, we'd known each other for almost two years now, and we'd been seeing each other for eight of those months now so it wasn't really a _rush_ to us. It just seemed that way on the outside because I'd only asked Robert's permission to marry her three days ago, asked her that night, and gotten married within the week. We knew we wanted to get married this whole time as an end goal, but I assumed it wasn't as urgent for her as it felt for me.

I hadn't understood quite why Rosalie was so insistent on getting married and getting married so _fast_. She had said she wanted to move in with me and start a life with me and publicly claim each other as soon as we could.

I knew she said it had something to do with wanting to shut down any chatter from gossip columnists and celebrity magazines about whom she was romantically involved with. She didn't want other people profiting from the details of her private life so she wanted to outsmart them all and just get married – fast and low key. She wanted to stay away from scandal and rumors and get ahead of it.

I didn't understand it all. However, I wanted to be married to her so much that I didn't see anything wrong with it.

It was still pressing on my mind though that she was still so young. I know I wasn't ready to get married at eighteen.

But, I was so so _so_ wrong to assume she was anything like I was.

She was brilliant, and wise, and sensible, and thoughtful. She was sure of herself, strong, tenacious, willing to fight for what she wanted and so _sure_ of what she desired…

One day about a month ago sitting in this very apartment, she'd looked at me and asked when I was going to ask her to marry me. I'd laughed, thinking she was joking and she started to cry, asking if I was always going to treat her like a baby.

She asked if I was _ever_ going to treat her as my equal.

She was perceptive and she knew I didn't view her as such…

I'd never felt more like a jerk in my entire life.

Later that night, she tried to prove to me that she wasn't a baby – she was a _'woman'_ and she thought the only way to do that was to have sex with me.

Since Mardi Gras almost _eight_ months ago, we'd been seeing each other. On that day, we'd kissed for the first time. Our chemistry was undeniable, and we found plenty of opportunities to keep seeing each other to display our compatibility and physical attraction. Shortly after our secret relationship began to slowly piece together, I began to notice how Rosalie always wanted to _control_ the situation when things got physical.

I didn't blame her. I let her lead to make her more comfortable. She got more confident the more time we spent around each other - the more she knew she could trust me.

But, Rosalie was intensely reticent about climbing into bed with me - so much so that she avoided the situation at all cost and obviously denied any contact that might lead to either of us even entertaining the thought of sex.

It might've been religious conviction that made her so quick to marry me first, even though I'd slipped on my own religious standards on this issue _many_ times before. Pre-marital sex wasn't exactly something I was estranged to.

But she was different…

Of course I respected her no matter what her reasons were, but God… it was difficult to let her go at just a kiss.

Nonetheless, that night she was _determined_ to have sex with me…

It was the first night she'd opened the door to my bedroom. It was the first night we'd gotten tangled up in the sheets. She'd kissed me and it was the first night she'd taken off all her clothes...

She lay under me in her lingerie, and I felt her fingers fumbling and shaking as she unzipped my pants. I chalked it up to the fact that she was inexperienced and nervous.

Then, I tasted salt on her lips…

That's when I could think straight enough to know what she was _really_ trying to do.

When I pulled away, I looked at her face and I saw she wasn't okay.

In her violet eyes I saw exactly what she'd been through written out like a novel.

She tried to get me to ignore it, but she was _afraid_ …

I knew what that sorry excuse of a man had done to her. I knew how he had taken advantage of her. I knew how he had desecrated her unspoiled, pure body and spirit. I knew how much pain he brought her. I knew he had kept her from feeling loved and adored and worshipped in the act. I knew how he had kept her from feeling pleasure and enjoying being in her own skin.

I knew how he had stolen that first experience from her.

She would never get that back.

 _Now, I was stealing this._

I was inadvertently and unintentionally manipulating her into this because she was trying to prove something to me…

It stomped on my soul to see her crying as I pulled away to look at her and I knew I wanted her to never feel that way again for the rest of her life.

I had to marry her and make sure fear and sadness never touched her eyes again. I had to marry her to make sure she would never be hurt.

Then, I told her I _needed_ to marry her.

With relief in her eyes as she sat up, hugging her knees to her chest, she told me she's never wanted anything more in her entire life, and honestly, I hadn't either.

There was just an aching in my soul to be joined with her in that way, and I wanted to protect her and love her as my wife every day until I died. I couldn't explain it; I just needed to marry her.

She was pleased, and five days after she turned eighteen, we were standing in St. Patrick's reciting vows. Father Carmine wasn't exactly happy about performing the wedding on what seemed to be such a whim, but I guess I convinced him it was better than 'living in sin.'

Rosalie and I had laughed and danced the day away, looking toward a bright future together full of laughing with each other just like that and stealing chances to dance amongst the mundane schedules everyday life. We'd gotten well wishes from the friends and family that were able to make it in just a three-day notice since we told everyone we were engaged, and everyone around us seemed to share in and celebrate the love Rosalie and I found in each other.

I know Rosalie was devastated her mother hadn't come. She hadn't even met me, and Rosalie was so disappointed by this. There was nothing but shock on Robert's face the entire day – obviously still not totally sold on the idea of his daughter being married or even more was the idea of her being married to _me_ …

Robert knew me. Rather, he knew who I was before her.

He hosted a 'boys club' type meeting around the cards table every so often with the Manhattan elite. I appreciated it because it was good networking for me, but it was also good fun. We'd talk about politics, money, property investments, and of course… _women_.

But, I also knew I was younger than most of the men there, so I was aware that some of them were just living vicariously through my own youthfulness and frivolous sin because I was the only one unmarried and living the bachelor life freely and publicly.

I had been to bed with plenty of insipid Manhattan debutantes – never their daughters _of course_ , and it was no secret.

Robert and his friends knew my vices and my downfalls. They'd watched me play cards with a beautiful woman on my lap and a cigar in my mouth and some of them even had women in theirs. They'd watched me go home with her without even knowing her name, red lipstick on my collar. They'd watched me gamble and smoke and drink in excess. They'd watched me revel in debauchery and laugh about it.

They'd watched me have too much fun…

I wasn't a bad guy per say, but I wasn't the guy you wanted your only daughter to marry on a whim. Rosalie had to have seen all the press these past few days making bets about how long our marriage would last and the longest anyone claimed was three months. If Rosalie had seen all the press, she wasn't letting me know, and honestly it didn't bother me – I just worried about her.

I knew she had to know I had a pretty… colorful past. But, she'd never once wanted to talk about my dating history.

Robert knew a lot of it, and naturally, no one wanted their little princess to be seen with the likes of me.

There was no doubt I had a lot of proving myself to do where he was concerned.

Robert had been in shock since I finally convinced him I was serious about asking Rosalie to marry me.

But, Robert was not shocked about one thing – that Camille hadn't shown up.

Rosalie walked slowly around my apartment. She'd been here before, but her violet eyes seemed to search and process the details since this was her home too now. I hoped more than anything she felt safe and at home here too.

She looked so beautiful in the moonlight pouring in from the open curtains that exposed a large window on the east side of the apartment. It was quiet and she walked slowly around, trailing her fingers across the furniture as if she were taking a tour.

Her head dropped so her golden hair and a strip of white veil fell to hide her face from me.

I still watched her with waiting eyes wondering what was going on in her gorgeous head.

As if she were answering the question in my head, she looked up at me.

Her eyes met mine and she looked like a doe in front of a hunter and it made me uneasy.

She was not my prey…

"Can you put these in some water?" She asked in her breathy wind-chimey voice, reaching out her bouquet to me.

I just nodded, taking the flowers from her and making my way to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry it's not the Ritz or anything…"

"No, I love it." She cut me off, knowing exactly what I was going to say. "It's home."

The smile on her face was beautiful and I couldn't help but sigh as I beheld her beauty.

"It is home." I grinned, settling on a large glass cup because I didn't own a vase.

Perhaps she did. She was having her things sent over and moved in while we were away, but she'd been very insistent about not leaving for a honeymoon until a few days after our wedding.

She'd been adamant about how she wanted to spend the first night of our honeymoon in what would be our home together on Lexington Avenue in the Upper East.

I didn't know if it was because of sentimentality or because we'd planned a shotgun wedding and couldn't get around to planning a honeymoon on the fly as well.

It would be interesting to see this place with a woman's touch after some time… I hoped more than anything Rosalie would feel safe here and feel an ownership of it. I wanted her to feel at home. I wanted her to love it here, and love being married to me of course. I wanted this for the long haul.

But, I couldn't think about that yet. I just had to think about today. I had to hold on to her while she was here.

I'd never even dated a girl longer than three months. Nothing serious had _ever_ come across my radar.

My past was never something Rosalie and I discussed, though I didn't really know how that conversation would go. She'd once asked me who my first kiss was, and that had made me laugh, but then when I told her – I watched her face turn white and then she said she thought she wanted to know, but she really didn't.

Jealousy had overwhelmed her eyes and that, I found attractive, but then there was something more. She was hurt, and that _killed_ me.

It was better she didn't know I suppose.

She was not the only woman I'd been with, but she was indeed the only woman I'd ever loved.

I made light conversation as I filled the makeshift vase, but she was distracted at best. I watched her float toward the bedroom and I knew what was making her nervous now. I swallowed, still watching her with curious eyes. I observed her as if I was gathering data on the effect of the new environment on her species.

What was on her mind?

I finished with the flowers, and slowly entered the bedroom behind her, not closing the door behind me.

I watched as she started on the pins in her hair that secured her veil.

She was so stunningly beautiful just doing such trivial things.

With tiny clinks, she placed the pins in a group on top of each other, arranging them as if she was taking her time.

Her profile in the moonlight and lowlight of the room was captivating and my eyes danced to the king sized bed I would share with her tonight.

I couldn't believe that I was nervous.

With a preparatory inhale, she reached behind her for the buttons of her dress. She seemed to fiddle with the same one for a long moment as I took off my tie.

I knew she was nervous, and it was paralyzing to watch her this way. I didn't know what to do, and it made her nervousness undeniably contagious. I noticed I had been stricken too once my heart started racing.

"Let me." I offered softly as she released her hand in blind agreement.

"Thank you." Rosalie nodded.

She turned her back toward me slowly and I brushed her hair off her back, starting on her buttons until her back was completely exposed and I got a glimpse of the lace on her hips...

I watched chills rise on her skin as I ever so slowly pushed her sleeve off her frame and kissed her bare shoulder. She tensed up as if she was about to get a shot at the doctor's office.

She seemed to hold on to her dress at her chest as I kissed her neck, and I noticed she was trembling.

"Rosalie… What's wrong, baby?" I asked softly, wanting to know what was on her mind.

"Nothing." She turned around to face me, and she smiled up at me but it didn't sparkle in her eyes as she put the strap back on her shoulder.

"Rosalie." I said softly and she kissed me, but I tasted reticence on her lips. "You're a terrible liar."

She attempted to prove it to me and to herself as she pushed to deepen the kiss, but I pulled away from her.

I kissed her forehead in an attempt to let her know I wasn't disappointed in her. I held her face in my hands, forcing her to look up at me.

I waited in silence. I couldn't find the right words to fill the silence, so I waited until she could. It seemed as if she had intended this anyway, she just needed to talk herself into speaking up.

"Okay… Can I ask you something?" She finally asked breathily, swallowing a lump in her throat that made her voice sound so small.

"What is it?" I asked without pushing her.

She carefully draped her veil across the chair where I did a lot of reading in and where I put my shoes on in the morning before work. I was still enamored at the thought of this angel infiltrating the menial things of my everyday life with the fantasy that surrounded her. It was odd, like seeing a polar bear in the desert or something, but it was welcome.

She looked away from me, pulling away so I wasn't able to observe her reaction to whatever she was going to ask me. She crossed her arms over her chest and hunched her shoulders so I knew she was delicate and vulnerable in this moment.

"Rosalie, you can ask me anything." I said evenly.

Rosalie seemed to vibrate with nervous energy.

"Will it hurt?" She finally asked in barely a whisper.

She closed her eyes, full of what looked like shame…

I could barely stomach the broken way she'd asked me that.

"I…" I cleared my throat, not expecting her question. "I will _never_ hurt you, Rosalie."

She didn't seem totally satisfied with this answer, and there was still deep want for something in her eyes as she looked back to me.

Her eyes searched over my face in quiet desperation.

"Maybe a little at first." I said, touching her face as softly as I could muster. "But, then it won't."

Rosalie kept those beautiful violet eyes locked on me, searching.

She finally nodded, accepting that. I saw a little tinge of fear in her eyes, then I realized what she actually meant by asking me that…

It made me sick.

She had such a tainted view of sex due to her past experience. He had forced himself on her. He had hurt her. He had taken something so precious from her.

She wanted to know if it was always going to be like that.

I gritted my teeth, trying to focus and not think about how much hate and anger I had harbored for him.

"If you don't like something and you want me to stop, I'll stop." I told her stroking her cheekbone with my thumb.

My voice sounded tight and forced because I was still shaking with rage and undoubtedly, she noticed but she didn't say anything.

Rosalie pressed her lips into a straight line and pulled away again.

"Really?" She inhaled.

"I swear." I responded easily, fighting for eye contact again. "Just talk to me. Tell me what you want. We'll never do anything you feel uncomfortable with."

She chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

Then, I noticed a tear escaped her eye and she speedily wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

"Sorry." She mumbled, batting at her eyes.

"Rosalie…" My heart was shattering watching her like this.

""I'm sorry, Em." She expanded, wiping more runaway tears from her eyes.

"Don't be sorry." I said, my hand hovering over her shoulder before I finally decided to touch her.

"I want to do this with you so badly, so I don't know why I'm crying." She chuckled at herself, tossing her hands down.

It ripped my heart clean out of my chest to see the fear in her eyes. She looked… _scared_ of me – so I asked.

"Are you scared of me, Rosalie?"

"No." She said, looking back up into my eyes fierily. "No, I'm not."

I saw the sincerity in her eyes before a few more tears escaped. I think I believed she was telling me the truth. I didn't know what was going on in her mind.

I couldn't say anything.

She sighed, wiping a loose tear off her cheek again.

"I trust you." Rosalie's eyes were fierce and I saw she believed this down to her core.

"Good." I swallowed, feeling the weight of what was happening for her. "I want you to."

I'd never even been with a girl who'd never done it before. It was a lot of pressure sure, but God, when I looked at Rosalie it absolutely overwhelmed me to no end that she was choosing me for this. It was so important, especially to her, and it left me speechless – unable to express how… _privileged_ I felt. I wanted to take care of her and show her how much I love her…

I remembered my first time, which felt so _so_ long ago now. I was fifteen. She was older, and I'd had the biggest crush on her. Eliza Buchanan was a senior and was one of the most popular girls in school. She had dark curly hair that just touched her shoulders and big brown eyes like Winona Ryder, whom of course I thought was the coolest girl ever. Eliza was an inch taller than me at the time and she loved wearing her floral Dr. Marten's boots so it gained her another inch or so on me, even when I wasn't ducking my head to look at my feet any time I walked past her in the hallway.

I hadn't hit my last couple growth spurts or yet…

At school, those first years, I kept my head down to avoid eye contact with anyone that might make me talk because I wasn't confident with English yet. I swore Eliza didn't even know who I was.

It was mid-autumn, a little cold, but not so cold I couldn't wear the black Guns N' Roses t-shirt I'd gotten for my birthday. I'd loved it, but I didn't know that as a late birthday present and an early Christmas present, my parents had saved up for months and months to send me to a concert.

I'd been beside myself happy. I knew all the kids at school thought Guns N' Roses was 'wicked' and when word spread I had tickets, Eliza Buchanan slid her lunch tray up beside me in line and asked me to sit with her at lunch. I swore I'd translated her wrong so I asked her to repeat herself. She laughed, told me I was funny, and took my hand to insist I sat next to her at lunch every day for the next two weeks before the concert.

The night of the show, I nervously waited on the street outside her apartment building so we could ride the subway together. I didn't have enough money to make sure my pants covered my ankles or my jacket sleeves would cover my wrists given my last growth spurt which had me already growing out of the things I'd gotten just last year – so naturally I was already mortified. I was so nervous I didn't know what to say to her.

As we sat next together on the 7 train, she asked me if I'd ever kissed a girl before. I'd embarrassingly asked her to repeat herself because my English wasn't very good at the time and she just leaned over and kissed me, laughing. I'd thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world; at the concert, she wore a green dress and floral Dr. Martens and I lost my virginity in the bathroom.

I had no idea what I was doing of course, but she did and she explicitly and confidently told me what to do.

She never talked to me or asked me to sit with her and her friends at their lunch table ever again, but she winked at me whenever we were alone in the hallways.

Rosalie Hale is presently just three years older than I was in that memory that seemed so far away to me now.

She seemed decades more mature than I'd dreamed of being at her age in so many ways. While we had both experienced great tragedy extremely young, we dealt with it in very different ways. Rosalie was forced to grow up and I was forced to relearn everything I knew and start over.

"I do. I trust you." Rosalie gave me a little smile, exhaling and relaxing a little to take me from my reverie.

"Well, what are you scared of?" I asked her as I sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to gesture for her to sit next to me.

She tentatively paced a bit before taking off her shoes and sitting next to me. Her posture was intensely upright, like she didn't want to relax.

I thought about reaching out to take her hand, but I waited.

Rosalie twisted her fingers together and bit her lip anxiously as she curled to look down at her lap. She withdrew into herself, but I still waited, knowing it was just her way of sorting through her thoughts.

"I don't know, I'm just…" She started, her voice shaking. "I'm just scared."

Her voice was so small and insecure and her body remained stiff and terrified.

I put my arm around her shoulder and she relaxed into my side.

"Come on, you can tell me." I said, looking down on her.

I wiped a tear off her cheek, hating that she felt this way.

"You've done this before." Rosalie said, and it sounded like a half-question so I knew she expected me to say something.

"Yes." I said plainly.

A few more tears escaped her eyes and I saw this upset her in a new way.

Oh no, she wanted me to tell her. That never ended well, and I knew she was a jealous girl. It wouldn't 'put her in the mood' to talk about my previous sexual encounters.

"But, it was never-" I started to tell her things were never serious.

"What if you… what if you don't like it as much with me?" Rosalie asked, cutting me off as if my sentiment was unnecessary.

"Oh, I guarantee you I will." I chuckled, lightening the mood. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world. I'm a very lucky guy, and I know it."

The corner of Rosalie's mouth turned up and she reached out for my hand. I let her take it.

I knew I had to say something a bit more… intimate than how beautiful she was.

"And you're you… You're my wife. And, I love you. It is always going to be different with you." I kissed her fingers.

My stomach was twisted and I was nervous like I was a teenager again. It was hard to believe I'd just called her my wife and she grinned at the word too.

There was a lot of pressure to make this right for her, and I just wanted to crawl into her brain and know what was going on in it. I wanted to know how to please her, how to make this perfect for her, how to make her comfortable…

"But, I don't know what I'm doing." Rosalie's voice shook.

She was awkward, and adorably so.

"That's okay, Rose. Really." I chuckled. "I do."

I felt like she was making such a big deal out of her inexperience, but it was such an afterthought to me.

I took her sweet, perfect face in my hands stroking her cheek with my thumb.

She closed her eyes, leaning into my left palm.

"I want to please you." Rosalie breathed, her voice low and sexy as she pulled away and looked up at me with those big violet eyes.

I clenched my jaw, unable to hide how much I loved hearing her say that.

"You will." I said confidently.

There was nothing in this world I wanted more than her. It made me feel high to hear her say those words.

She tilted her chin down, confidence in her eyes now – _focus_ on what she wanted.

God, I was a lucky son of a gun that what she wanted was _me_.

"I just don't know _how_." Rosalie bit her lip. "I mean… I asked Alice and she… she showed me some things, but…"

I tried so hard not to laugh because I knew how serious this was for Rosalie. But, I had to look away from her and bite my teeth together to fight my amusement.

Alice, that little freak…

Rosalie saw the humor in my eyes even though I was desperately trying to hide it.

"What?" Rosalie asked, panic in her voice.

"Nothing." I said, twirling a piece of her golden hair around my fingers.

She jerked away, retreating and insecure now.

"You're laughing at me." Rosalie pouted, obviously upset.

"Rose, hey listen. I'm not laughing at you."

"Yes, you are." Her voice caught in her throat and I immediately saw how serious she really was.

"No, Rosalie, I just can't believe that you'd do that for me. It's amazing to me that you _want_ to please me. That's the biggest compliment a guy can get." I fumbled over words, not truly satisfied with the ones I'd chosen.

"Really?" Rosalie's beautiful violet eyes found mine again and she seemed to accept what I'd said.

"Really." I told her, kissing her cheek but really just wanting to taste her lips.

I saw the fabric of her dress slide to show just a little more skin at her side and it made my body flare with desire for her.

I wanted her more than anything, and though I didn't want to push her – I hadn't been this long without sex since I'd started having it. She was worth every second of waiting for her, but God, she was killing me.

I shook the selfish thoughts from my head, trying to focus on being understanding.

"I'll… practice." She smiled a little, a flicker of naughty intent in her eyes that caused me to inhale through my nose as I thought about it.

Rosalie bit her lip, unsure about how to talk 'dirty' even though that was entirely G rated, I appreciated that she tried and it was enough to get my imagination to run wild.

I couldn't handle it anymore; I had to put my hands on her.

She didn't flinch away from my touch now, instead she relaxed into it as my fingers found her back.

"But tonight, just let me please _you_." I told her, my hand trailing down her spine.

"I'd like that." She shivered and I smiled down at her.

"I want you to know pleasure, Rose." I said, kissing her neck while she shivered, her quivering hand coming to my thigh. "You should know pleasure."

She smiled now, her cheeks flushing and her eyes fluttering down.

I had to focus, but I was so drawn to her I couldn't pull away even if I wanted to.

"But, listen. More than anything, I want you to know that I love you. I want to do this _with_ you, Rosalie, not _to_ you." I told her as I kissed her neck still, tracing the length of her collarbone to the base of her throat.

"I love you, Emmett." She exhaled in a whisper, her head tilting slightly back as all of her tension relaxed.

She was giving herself to me, fully.

That trust absolutely overwhelmed me. She was gifting me something sacred, something otherworldly, something I would revere and worship forever.

And, the way she said my name…

Rosalie looked up at me now, her violet eyes deep and vast as she slowly stood from the bed in front of me between my knees.

It was heavily silent, and I could swear I heard her heart racing.

She found my eyes in a way that made my stomach drop and she took a deep breath through her nose as if she was preparing.

I swallowed, my stomach in knots as her trembling fingers fumbled with my belt.

Impatience was coursing through my veins and I was vibrating with energy, but I didn't dare rush her or spook her.

I loved her.

Desire was rolling off of me in waves and I heard the hitch in her breath as she saw it evident under the zipper of my pants.

"Will it?..." I knew she was asking if it'd fit and I was crucified under the weight of my desire for her.

I didn't even know if I could respond - my head was just pounding with thoughts of her.

I sat forward and as she finally finished with my pants, I kissed her perfect pink lips before standing over her to slip them off.

Her hands shook nervously by her sides now, but I wanted her hands on me. Nothing else mattered.

"I won't hurt you, Rosalie." I told her and she looked up at me with infinite, vulnerable eyes.

She nodded and raised her right shoulder to start on the sleeve of her dress.

Blood coursed through my veins in rapid pulses.

Rosalie stopped slipping her arms out of the sleeves of her dress, her eyes locked in mine as if she were downloading the thoughts of my brain and wanted me to download hers.

In mere moments of looking into her eyes, I felt so in sync with her, like we were two halves of the same whole, and that's how I knew she wanted me to take off her clothes.

That was something so simple, but I knew how much that meant.

She trusted me to take off her clothes. She wanted me to unwrap her and expose her. She wanted me to make her vulnerable to me.

I loved her so much and I wanted her so badly, it was instinctual to reach for her, slipping her long, slender arms out of the sleeves of her dress so that it then fell in a pool at her feet.

My eyes danced over her perfect body as she stood in front of me in just a white pair of lacy panties and a garter.

"You're so beautiful." All I could do was sigh.

Rosalie shocked me when she let me look at her, taking in every curve, every new surface of her perfect white skin. Rosalie didn't cower under my gaze, as I looked at her, naked in front of me for the very first time. Instead, she seemed to revel in it.

I was just here to worship the wonder of her body.

She kept her eyes on me as I looked over her flesh, sliding my hands down from the tops of her bare shoulders and down the sides of her perfect body, down to her hips. Her skin was like velvet, and I wanted to memorize every inch with my fingers.

Her body was _perfect,_ and I wanted her so bad it consumed me.

She reached out for my waist and I folded my arms on top of her as I kissed her, loving having her close but loving even more having her bare skin on mine. I craved her closer though, and I was pulsating with pent up energy.

There was a familiarity to having her in my arms after almost a year of seeing each other, but it was still as enticingly electric as if it were the first time.

It had never been this way for me. I'd never been with someone who wanted to discover me like she did, and that made my senses alert and my nerve endings burn with every touch.

I lifted her under her thighs and instinctually, she wrapped her legs around my waist.

That brought out something primal in me that wanted her immediately.

I had to focus.

Rosalie was still nervous and trembling, and I pulled her closer against me to steady her as I walked her over to the edge of the bed to ease her into the sheets.

Her golden hair pooled behind her head as she laid in the center of the bed and I kissed her neck as I lowered myself down between her legs, feeling her against me.

I exhaled, unable to fathom how good she was going to feel inside.

As my fingers found the hem of her panties, and I kissed down her chest, chills multiplied on her skin.

"Emmett?" She sighed, her eyes closing and her back arching a little in pleasure.

I couldn't think straight, having my name on her lips like that.

But, I could've sworn that it was a question.

Then, she put one of her hands in my hair, running her fingers through it.

The heel of her hand pressed into my cheek and prompted me to look up at her now.

Her face had changed and she was looking at me with huge violet eyes.

"Will you go slow with me?" She asked.

"I will." I promised her, kissing the center of her palm as she retracted her hand from my face.

I brushed her hair off her face, wanting to look at her.

"Rose, I love you." I told her, stroking her face.

"I know." She swallowed, her eyes darting over my face.

Rosalie looked like an angel, and I inhaled her sweet, floral scent as I kissed her.

"Do you trust me?" I asked her, kissing her forehead then falling back into the abyss of her gaze.

"Mmmhm." Her voice was more high-pitched than usual and she bit her lip, looking away from me and up at the ceiling as I kissed her cheek to reassure her.

Then, she crushed her lips to mine ardently, hooking her arms under mine to pull down on my shoulders. She gasped against my lips to feel me against her, fabric of course still a barrier between her spread legs.

I smiled against her lips in reaction to her pleasure and in reaction to my own desire for her before I left her lips to tend to the rest of her body.

We didn't need to talk after that. It could all be said in sighs, explorative hands, and kisses. As we lost track of time, I found the barriers of satin, lace, and cotton no longer existed.

She braided her fingers in my hair as my kisses got more southern and I ran my tongue across my lips. I ducked my head, and her knees coiled as her back arched. There was no greater indulgence than hearing her breath hitch and her involuntary response sounds to pleasure. I wanted to play her purrs on repeat.

After a few moments, I felt victorious as I heard her sing my name in unadulterated pleasure, her fingers extending through my hair and her legs curling as I let her ride out her high, continuing to pant my name.

" _Oh, God_." Rosalie threw her head back and I relished her with abandoned enjoyment as she came undone.

Her reaction drove me and I kissed her neck now, unable to stop the smirk on my lips as her fingers clawed into my back.

I reached for her hands, guiding them above her head as I worshipped her body.

As I'd intended, her fingers curled around the headboard.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, kissing her forehead.

She nodded fervently, but when I pulled away to reposition between her legs pausing at her edge, I noticed she closed her eyes tightly.

"No, look at me, Rose." I directed her tenderly trailing my fingers across her perfect pink lips.

Her eyes opened to find mine in response to my command and her eyes searched over my face dreamily.

"I love you." I reminded her, and Rosalie's knees relaxed on either side of my hips, opening herself for me as my wife.

I wanted her to lose herself in all the bliss I could show her as her husband.


	19. When

_Hey everyone! Please please please pleaseeeeee leave a review to let me know your thoughts if you're reading! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK!_

 _I love all your brilliant suggestions for a chapter! I've got some things brewing! I know we're anxious for a chapter with a little background on Emmett and his family, but I wanted to set Tennessee up before anything fancy reveals itself! But I swear, it's coming! (Next two or three chapters most likely.)_

 _To answer a question: YES! I am planning a story after this one, but this one is really taking all my time right now, so I don't want to split up my focus and delay any updates on either story, but it's canon Meyer universe and Rosalie and Emmett's relationship post his transformation. There were some assumptions we had to make as readers just getting the story from Edward and Bella so it seems to have lots of wiggle room for interpretation! (perfect fanfic fuel) It just seems highly improbable that Rosalie would throw herself at someone with no holds barred given her past, so I really wanted to examine how I imagine that progression might have gone realistically._

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

 **When - dodie**

 _Sure, I'll live in the moment_

 _But I'm never happy here_

 _I'm surrounded by greener looking time_

 _Am I the only one_

 _Wishing life away?_

 _Never caught up in the moment_

 _Busy begging the past to stay_

 _Memories painted with much brighter ink_

 _They tell me I loved, teach me how to think_

 _I'll take what I can get_

 _Cause I'm too damp for a spark_

 _Kissing sickly sweet guys_

 _Cause they say they like my eyes_

 _But I'd only ever see them in the dark_

 _I'm sick of faking diary entries_

 _Got to get it in my head_

 _I'll never be sixteen again_

 _I'm waiting to live, and waiting to love_

 _Oh it'll be over, and I'll still be asking when_

* * *

Rosalie: Roadside Assistance

 _Present, On the Road - Day Four_

"Rosalie, I must say that as we near the end of this journey, your driving has gotten significantly less terrifying." Emmett commented with a smirk. "Good job, baby."

I narrowed my eyes at him while he hung the gas pump back up as I walked around the car. I had gone inside the little service station to pick up some snacks and popped a couple almonds in my mouth.

He didn't see it coming as he turned back to grab the door handle that I was poised to throw an almond straight at his face.

It hit his nose and he flinched then stared at me incredulously.

"That's not fair! I have no ammo." He cried, ducking behind the car to unsuccessfully hide himself from another speeding almond that hit his shoulder this time.

"Not my fault you don't stay vigilant." I shrugged with a little smile.

"You're ruthless." He stared at me with wide eyes and pseudo-terror on his face. "I surrender."

"Good choice." I nodded, as we both opened the door to the jeep I'd rented, sliding in to our respective seats.

We wanted to remain anonymous, even though the temptation for an ostentatious, fast car was almost too much for me to handle. I finally decided to make the smart choice and I figured a jeep would be fine. He didn't exactly tell me how long he anticipated staying but that he was off a case and could take off work as long as we wanted.

I didn't ask questions, but that seemed suspicious. I didn't want to burst the bubble of happiness though with my nagging questions.

Needless to say, naturally, I packed to stay for a month or so.

"Where'd you learn to drive?" Emmett asked as I started the car. "The Indy 500?"

I laughed, watching him grab onto the off-road bar on the dash and the top of the window.

He was notoriously a jokester, but I wondered briefly if the dread in his eyes was real as I sped out of the gas station parking lot and whipped out onto a back road.

"My dad taught me when I was sixteen on a summer trip to Monaco." I explained, keeping my hands at ten and two like I remembered him screaming at me to do as I practically drove off the road many times that summer.

Emmett nodded, and relaxed as I eased off the accelerator so as not to scare him to death.

"Are you really scared of my driving?" I asked, allowing myself a quick look at him, then put my eyes back on the road.

"No, dear. You're a perfectly civilized driver. You've never broken the speed limit by over 50 miles per hour or passed someone on a double yellow line once this whole trip." He said in a highly sarcastic tone.

His dimples made me unable to be annoyed at him.

"How do you know about double yellow lines?" I widened my eyes.

He didn't know how to drive. How did

"I Googled it after the fourth time someone shot you the bird back in Philly." Emmett shrugged.

I laughed, really laughed, and he put his hand on my thigh.

"Really, I think you're an excellent driver. Thank you for driving." Emmett said, rubbing my thigh. "I'm glad we did this."

I sighed happily, relaxing the tension in my shoulders and winding my hands around the steering wheel.

As we approached a stop sign, I decided to actually fully stop at it so I could lean over and kiss him.

"I am too." I smiled as I returned my hands to the wheel after a quick kiss.

We'd taken an 11-hour road trip and turned it into an excursion that lasted four days. We stopped whenever we felt like stopping and some times even when we didn't. We saw so many stupid, pointless, odd roadside attractions and stopped at eclectic museums we truly had no interest in just because we could. We took a detour to a public beach in Virginia just so we could jump in the ocean. I didn't put an ounce of makeup on, and let my hair stay naturally curly and wild this whole time.

Emmett and I both turned our phones off after we made arrangements to leave and I realized what a peaceful thing it was to completely unplug. I knew it stressed my agent out and all the designers that I pulled out of two very important fashion weeks so late, but once my phone was off, it couldn't matter what they thought or what any magazines said. I was detached from the Rosalie Hale I was in New York.

I also loved being able to walk into a gas station and no one wanting a picture. Here and there, people thought they recognized Emmett and I and we had to leave whatever we were doing, but overall it felt good to be unknown and out from under pressure.

I couldn't remember if I'd ever known a life like this.

"Look at how open the sky is." Emmett said with a smile, leaning his head back and looking out the open sunroof.

"I know." I grinned, taking a quick glance up to the endless blue. "It's beautiful."

"You're beautiful." He said, turning to look at me, his amber eyes open and vast.

I smiled, really smiled as I reached over to put my hand on his cheek. He'd never grown a beard as long as I'd known him, but now, after just four days it was growing in black and full on his face. I didn't realize how much I truly loved it until I kept staring at him to study him.

At first, I imagined it would change his boyish face, but somehow, it just made his eyes more piercing so I could see the light and humor and vibrancy in them. It made him look even more wild and free and playful and spirited, or maybe that was just these past four days that were responsible for that change.

I found myself having to peel my eyes off of him so I could focus on the road.

"Eyes on the road, miss." Emmett scolded in a flirtatious joke.

"Sorry." I bit my lip, then as a song came on the radio that I'd never heard before, Emmett cranked it and began to dramatically sing and rap every word.

I laughed as I watched him performing for me, then he pointed the imaginary microphone in my direction. I had nothing, so I shrugged.

"You've never heard this before?!" He asked incredulously.

"No."

"But, you were already a year old when it came out! It's practically a nursery rhyme" Emmett raised an eyebrow.

"Ha. Ha." I rolled my eyes. "No, they didn't play that in my nursery. I didn't grow up in the Bronx."

Emmett knew I was in good humor and was joking around so he laughed fully and freely.

I rummaged in the bag on my lap for a snack, popping some more almonds in my mouth before I reached a banana.

"Will you peel this for me?" I asked him, handing it over.

"Only because I want to watch you eat it." He said as he took it with a smirk.

"You're terrible." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm serious." He shrugged as he handed it back to me, open.

I made a show of sexualizing my banana eating and I heard him sharply inhale.

"This is how Alice taught me, you know?" This snapped him from his trance.

"And, that thing you do?" He raised an eyebrow. " _Alice_ taught you that?"

"No. That was all me. I just thought you'd like it."

"Holy smokes, I just love your dirty imagination." He said like he was telling me he was proud of me for winning a Nobel Peace Prize.

I laughed, tossing the banana peel over at him in teasing.

"Ew, Rosalie. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?" He shrieked, rolling down the window to toss it out.

"No." I said solemnly, my smile disappearing. "She never wanted me in the first place and left when I was just eight, you know?..."

My lips were pursed in a straight line as I looked at him seriously. His eyes were full of horror, his mouth open as if he hated what he just said. His voice trembled as he stumbled over words, then finally settled on some.

"Oh my God, Rose… I…" He started, and I couldn't hold it any longer.

My smile burst across my face as I threw my head back, laughing.

After a few uncomfortable chuckles, he finally decided I was joking and joined in my laughter.

"I just wanted to see you sweat." I laughed.

He exhaled in relief, his laughter dying down as he was unsure how to continue.

I was overwhelmed with love for him, loving the way his profile looked as he watched the long road ahead of us.

"You know, I've never done it in a car before." I smirked, my hand wrapping around the inside of his thigh.

He whipped his head to me.

"You know, you've said that eight times since we left New York?" Emmett noted with a throaty laugh. "And, it's been a lie every time."

"Are you complaining?" I withdrew my hand.

"Not at all." He said, grabbing my hand before I withdrew it. "It just _amuses_ me."

"Why?" I frowned, not quite following.

"You're the girl of my dreams, Rosalie Hale." He said seriously. "I just can't believe you want me like you do."

"Well…" I said, my eyes on the road and my hands gripping the wheel tighter. "I do."

I could feel his eyes on me, and I shivered – thinking about how much I wanted him.

"We do have to make it quick though, because we've already stopped too many times and we need to get back on the road at a reasonable hour." I said evenly, only afterward realizing how that sounded.

He chuckled.

"Yes ma'am." He saluted me with an easy smile.

"And for the record... I've said it nine times - not eight." I bit my lip.

He grinned.

Ah, the beauty of backroads.

Doing it in a car wasn't all it was cracked up to be since it was so restrictive and mostly, we just laughed and apologized for bumping into each other or crawling over each other like a bunch of high school kids not wanting to get caught by their parents.

However, of course we got creative and made do. After we untangled ourselves from each other, totally satisfied, we got back on the road.

Emmett kept his window down and his shirt in the back seat. It was still hot down South even in October, so the breeze from the open window whipping through my hair was magnificent. My underwear was in the floorboard, and I left my bra hanging from the shifter between us so sitting in just a sundress made me feel effortlessly free with the new air of the South rushing through my lungs and out of my pores.

The late afternoon sun warmed my skin and I watched Emmett out of the corner of my eye as leaned his head back, looking out the window and resting his arm on the frame, drumming his fingers to a Janis Joplin song on the radio.

Bliss surrounded me, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling.

"What is it, Rose?" Emmett asked, his hand sliding behind my neck to play in my hair.

He kept his head back, but turned his chin toward me so his big brown eyes could devour me.

His eyes on my skin warmed me just like the sun did.

"I'm happy." I exhaled, truthfully believing the words – with every fiber of my being.

"Me too." He agreed with a little smile, his fingers twirling a curl near my ear.

"You're _so_ beautiful right now." Emmett said, in absolute wonder stroking my cheek.

"Thank you." I leaned in to his touch, contentedly.

"I love seeing you happy." He went on.

"You make me happy." I told him, shooting him a quick smile.

"You make _me_ happy." Emmett grinned.

After a second, he took my hand and a deep breath. I kept one hand on the wheel as he traced patterns into my other palm.

"Do you remember when we got married?" He started, playing with my fingers.

Even in the very first days of our marriage, I noticed that sex opened him up. He was never reserved or hesitant, but after sex he absolutely poured himself out for me and just me. We told each other things we'd never speak to another soul, secrets, hopes, dreams, fears as we stayed locked in each other. It hadn't been like that in a long time...

Apparently all that pent up pillow talk was making him a sap.

I was amused of course, but had to keep that observation to myself.

"Yes. Do you?" I chuckled in teasing. "Or have you started getting old man brain?"

He feigned injury to his heart as his hand came to his chest.

"Noooo. Are you going to trade me in for a younger model?" He asked in jest. "I mean, it has been five years. Is that a term limit for your husbands?"

I laughed, knowing he was messing around.

"What were you going to say? Yes, I remember when we got married." I redirected, knowing my joking had gotten him off track, and I was opening myself up to any sentimentality he might have planned.

"I was just going to ask what you wanted for our anniversary. Five years is a pretty big one and it's just a month away." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Just you. Like this." I answered swiftly.

I told him the second thing that popped into my head. The first…. _A_ _baby_.

My throat got tight, but I refused to let darkness creep in to this perfect day.

"Well, I want driving lessons and a Lamborghini." Emmett said plainly, but I think he was joking. He had to be; he wouldn't get behind the wheel _once_ this trip even when I begged him and told him I'd teach him. "So I think you're getting a sour end of that deal."

"I don't think so." I squeezed his hand with a little laugh.

"Really, you're going to have to tell me something, or I'm going to end up guessing." Emmett said as I returned my hand to the wheel to focus.

"And, don't forget about my birthday just three weeks from now." I said with a smile.

"Oh, I haven't!" He assured me. "We should have a party. A big one. Like we used to."

Emmett's eyes absolutely lit up with happiness at the memories.

We did used to throw the most extravagant parties…

"I know everyone's missed our Halloween parties." I mulled the idea over. "Do you think it's a little last minute to be planning something?"

"Not for you, Rose." He shook his head. "Hire a party planner you like and trust when we get back. You can oversee it all. You were always so good at that."

Emmett reminded me I really did love planning events and I thought about it seriously.

"No one's seen our Park Avenue place…" I mused. "We could always host it there. Maybe keep it small…"

"Right." He nodded.

"Turn right." He said a little more urgently as I approached the turn, taking it a little too fast and causing him to grab onto the off-road bars.

"Jesus Christ, Rose!" Emmett cackled as gravel spat out behind the tires and we straightened out onto the road now that was single lane and mostly just dirt.

"What?!" I shrieked.

"Let's make it there alive please." He laughed.

"I don't even know where we're going." I complained in good humor, but was a little annoyed at his criticism when he wasn't doing a good job at navigating.

He didn't say anything, just took my hand and kissed my fingers as he navigated us through a thousand twists and turns until the road spat out to a clearing with yards and yards of grass and wildflowers rolled out like a red carpet to showcase a white house with robin egg blue shutters, a wrap-around porch, and massive columns under a balcony.

It was idyllic.

I almost started to smile, and then Emmett spoke and ruined everything.

"Rosalie, _please_ trust me okay?" He used that tone of voice I'd gotten far too used to over the past year – the clinical one for when I was acting insane.


	20. Atlas: Two

_Hey everyone! Please please please pleaseeeeee leave a review to let me know your thoughts if you're reading! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK!_

 _I love all your brilliant suggestions for a chapter! I've got some things brewing!_

 _HERE'S NEXT CHAPTER! Setting some big things up! eeeeep review and I'll update faster ;)_

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

 **Atlas: Two - Sleeping at Last**

 _Sweetheart, you look a little tired_  
 _When did you last eat?_  
 _Come in and make yourself right at home_  
 _Stay as long as you need_  
 _Tell me, is something wrong?_  
 _If something's wrong, you can count on me_  
 _You know I'll take my heart clean apart, if it helps yours beat_

 _It's okay if you can't find the words_  
 _Let me take your coat_  
 _And this weight off of your shoulders_

 _Like a force to be reckoned with_  
 _A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss_  
 _I will love you with every single thing I have_  
 _Like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess_  
 _Or calm waters, if that serves you best_  
 _I will love you without any strings attached_

 _It's okay if you can't catch a breath_  
 _You can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest_

 _I know exactly how the rule goes:_  
 _Put my mask on first_  
 _No, I don't want to talk about myself_  
 _Tell me where it hurts_  
 _I just want to build you up, build you up_  
 _'Til you're good as new_

 _And maybe one day I will get around fixing myself too_

* * *

Emmett: The Mental Mechanic

 _Present, Dr. Sawyer's_

I took her trembling hand, lacing my fingers through hers as I led her up the front steps. We'd left our bags in the car, just so I could focus on taking care of her and making sure she didn't freak out.

Rosalie's steps were tentative, and her eyes were watchful. Something had set her off, and she had retreated boldly into herself. It was a real tragedy to watch after such an outstanding four days that had her blooming into a new, vibrant version of herself. I recognized the light in her eyes, but there was something so different and new and unbridled about her these past four days that I just fell in love with all over again.

None of that was present in her face now as she looked up at the large oak front door.

"Where are we?" She asked me in an even tone.

I couldn't say anything. I just kissed her cheek as I rang the doorbell.

"Emmett?" She asked, clawing her fingers into my arm, just before the door swung open. "

A woman just a little older than me answered the door.

She had wide green eyes and shoulder length chestnut brown hair. Her lips were cherry red and her cheeks were rosy in a way that was old fashioned. Her dark curls were pulled back from her face in a 1940s vintage way and she wore a Granny Smith apple green dress. She balanced a baby boy on her hip with wild dark curls.

Rosalie took a step backward, and I put my hand on her shoulder.

"You must be Emmett and Rosalie." The woman grinned shifting the boy from one hip to the other so she could offer her hand for a handshake.

"Dr. Vera Sawyer." She said. "Please come in!"

Rosalie tensed up, so I put my arm around her shoulder now in support.

"Thank you for seeing us, and for being so flexible." I said, taking a look around this beautiful interior, but really focusing on Rosalie's state. "I know it was really last minute when I called."

It was like the past few days hadn't even happened by the ice that had frozen around Rosalie.

"Emmett…" Rosalie was practically pleading with me, holding her ground as I pulled her forward.

"Please come in." Vera offered, gesturing.

She detected Rosalie's reticence.

As we walked in, the first thing I noticed was the long, open staircase with a perfectly sloped wooden rail for sliding like in the movies. The décor was exquisite and like you'd imagine an old Southern home to look.

Something was in the oven. It smelled delicious – like cinnamon.

"You have a beautiful home." Rosalie said softly, but I noticed her eyes lingered on the baby on Vera's hip.

The lump in my throat grew exponentially and I tightened my fingers around Rosalie's.

"Oh, thank you!" Vera grinned. "It's been in my family for a few generations. That picture there, that's my great grandma Mavis. This was her childhood home"

Vera proudly gestured toward a black and white picture of a woman in 1930s style dress, and I could see a lot of Vera in her. Vera seemed to even copy her style. She wore a similar button front dress standing here now.

I felt Rosalie begin to relax.

"How old is he?" Rosalie asked as we continued following Vera on a little tour.

Rosalie wouldn't be able to focus on anything else but that baby…

"Oh, forgive me. This is Henry." Vera bounced the baby on her hip and he giggled. "He's about to turn one in a couple weeks!"

"When's his birthday?" Rosalie asked curiously, her eyes lingering on a beautiful grand piano as we passed.

"Halloween." Vera said.

"Mine too." Rosalie smiled, and I exhaled, seeing that Vera was already making her feel comfortable.

"No way! What a coincidence." Vera grinned.

Rosalie nodded, her eyes fluttering back to the piano.

"Do you play?" Vera asked, expertly reading Rosalie.

"It's been years." Rosalie mumbled, lost in thought it seemed.

This was new information. I had no idea she knew how to play the piano.

"I didn't know you could play the piano." I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.

"Not very well." Rosalie shook me off like it wasn't a big deal.

Something made me think she was being modest.

"You should play something for us!" Vera encouraged.

"Oh, no I couldn't." Rosalie's cheeks flushed.

"Maybe after we chat a little bit and get you settled?" Vera prompted. "Can I make you some tea or coffee or something?"

"Coffee would be great." I smiled.

"I'm fine. Maybe some water?" Rosalie shook her head.

"You can wait for me in the sunroom. Down the hall, on your right. It's the one with all the windows. Can't miss it." Vera chuckled.

As Rosalie and I found the beautiful sunroom, she walked around looking at all the generations of family pictures.

"They all look so happy." Rosalie mumbled.

I kissed her cheek.

"Why are we really here, Emmett?" Rosalie asked, her voice full of passion and energy.

She was pushing.

I had to be honest with her – prepare her.

"Well, she's… she's a doctor and Carlisle recommended we come see her." I started. "He and Esme lost a child too, a few years before they hired me on and they said she's great and –"

Rosalie's eyes shot up to me like I'd betrayed her and she ripped her hand from mine, turning.

"Rose." I grabbed onto her shoulders and she tried to shrug me off.

"How could you?" She growled, swatting at my hands as she raced through the house and pulled open the front door.

It ripped a hole in my heart to hear the betrayal in her voice. I felt like I'd been disloyal not being honest with her initially, but after the brief moment of pause, I followed her down the front porch steps.

At the sight of me behind her, she took off running across the yard, her blonde hair whipping behind her.

"Rosalie, baby, wait." I sighed, taking off after.

I didn't know she could run _so_ fast.

"Rosalie!" I called.

She lost some speed as she fumbled for the keys to the jeep, but right before she made it to the door, I grabbed her by the waist.

Rosalie screamed bloody murder as I caught her.

"Let me go!" She shrieked, and her head jerked back as I flipped her around, her body thudding against the side of the car.

It knocked the air out of her, and her wide eyes met mine as she writhed and struggled against me. I overpowered her easily.

"Emmett, let me go." She started to cry. "Please let me go."

"Rosalie, I thought we agreed on this. We need help. Dr. Sawyer is…"

She cut me off, crying.

"How could you do this to me?" Rosalie gasped, shaking under my hands.

"Because I love you and I want us to be _better_." I told her. "I want you back. You said it; we need help. I got us help."

Rosalie was still panting angrily, but now she reached her arms to wrap around my waist. Her fingers grasped at the fabric of my shirt and she pressed her forehead into the center of my chest. I kissed her hair trying to center her.

"I _did_ want to get help…" Rosalie started, her voice shaking. "But… But, these past few days. Em, darling, surely you know everything is alright, now."

"Surely you know…" She tried to convince me. "We don't need anyone else. Just me and you. We don't need her. Everything's okay now."

She put her hands on either side of my face, stroking my cheek.

Rosalie kissed me, trying to hypnotize me into believing her.

Tears still raced down her cheeks.

"No, it's not. It's too deeply rooted to just be fixed by a couple days out of New York." I said firmly.

"Emmett, I'm not doing this." She panicked, her eyes wide.

I didn't say anything. I just pulled on her hand a little harder.

"Don't make me go back there." Rosalie choked on a sob, trying to pull her hand out of my grip. " _Please_ don't make me… I worked so hard to be normal again and these past four days I've been able to and… And, I don't want to be sad again. I can't do it…"

I looked down into her tearful, red, eyes and recalling that day with perfect clarity when all of this started.

I never could be hurt for myself because I was so worried about carrying _her_ hurt. I had lost everything too. I loved seeing her glowing and radiant with vibrant skin and a rounded belly filled with _my_ child – with _my_ little girl. I wanted us to be a family, to love each other and that would make this awful, broken world a little brighter.

I wanted to watch my daughter grow up in America with so many opportunities all around her, and I wanted her to have big dreams and know she could achieve them. I wanted to protect and provide for my wife and my daughter, and show them a perfect, beautiful life where they didn't have to worry about anything. I wanted to kiss Rosalie and take the bundle of pink from her arms when I came home from work and look down into our daughter's face and know that half of her blood was mine and half of her blood was Rosalie's.

I wanted it so badly, and I couldn't have it.

Then, after some time, I just wanted a baby… Any baby… But, they didn't exactly give priority for adoptions to suicidal drunks or manic supermodels that can't keep a stable home.

"Em, please. I don't want to go back there…" She panted. "I don't want to talk about it."

I kissed her lips.

"I'm sorry. We're going to have to." I said, kissing her forehead now.

"If we sit down with her, we're going to have to talk about it _all_." Rosalie warned. "Are you prepared to do that?"

I swallowed nervously. I had been so sidetracked about dealing with Rosalie's problems that I didn't even think of my own. My preoccupation with Rosalie's well-being had completely distracted me from the fact that I was in on this too, and chances were good that Vera was going to go digging…

She would dig so far she'd end up in Cuba…

I thought about my reticence, but I looked into Rosalie's eyes and saw that I had to do this no matter what.

"Rosalie, we're doing this." I said in finality. "Don't fight me."

"Emmett, it hurts too much to go back there..." She said in a calmer, more normal voice.

"But then, it will be better." I responded, stroking her hair.

"But, I'm tired. I'm so _tired_." She wailed.

"I know." I continued stroking her hair. "I know, Rose. I'm tired too. I'm tired of us being this way. I want you back."

"I'm tired of our lives revolving around losing that baby, Em. I just want to move on." She exhaled exasperatedly.

"I know. I do too. But, we can't do that on our own. There's no way we can move on. We've tried."

"We did fine these past four days. We did."

"We did, Rosalie. I just want it to last." I said, sighing.

"I'm scared…"

"What are you afraid of? I'll be right there with you. We're doing this together." I took her hand, pulling on it gently to get her to come back toward the house.

She dug her heels into the dirt, trying to slow me down as I pulled her forward.

"Emmett, _please_ don't make me…" Rosalie begged.

I kept my teeth gritted and my hands on her tightly as I made it up the front steps.

Vera stood at the door, holding it open for us with a little smile.

She had given her baby to a man that appeared to be Vera's husband and I saw him retreating upstairs so the baby wouldn't be upset by our dramatic display.

I kept my eyes down, knowing Vera had been watching the whole time. At least she knew what challenge she was taking on.

"This way." Vera mumbled and I followed her into the other room.

Vera had brought Rosalie a glass of water and me a cup of coffee that she now sat on two floral coasters on the dark wood coffee table in front of us.

"Rosalie, I know you're very hesitant, but I assure you – I'm only here to help you feel like yourself and sort through some of the weight you've been carrying." Vera offered kindly, crossing her hands and interlacing her fingers.

She looked at us calmly, as if she hadn't seen all the craziness that just transpired.

She leaned forward so her elbows were on her knees casually.

"Sorry." Rosalie apologized for her behavior in a mumble.

"There's no need to be sorry, Rosalie. Obviously you have a strong reaction to the pain of the past, but you're not alone in that. We're both here for you."

Rosalie sat up straight now, brushing her hair from her face and taking a long drink of water.

I watched her eyes ice over and her soft, 'I'm in public' smile plaster on.

"Please don't close yourself off." I knew Rosalie had retreated into her mind, and there was no reaching her there.

Rosalie's eyes met mine and narrowed.

"I'm not. I'm _listening_." She said coldly.

She was lying.

I sighed.

"Now, I want you to remember that this time is only constructive if you both are invested. Are you?" Vera asked, then I noticed her eyes were lingering on me.

Why? Obviously I was the more willing of Rosalie and I.

"Yes." I answered confidently.

Rosalie sat her glass of water down and took my hand. She looked up at me with vast violet eyes and then nodded.

"Yes." She swallowed, and I saw the openness in her eyes.

"Now, do both of you want to continue your marriage? Are we here to preserve the marriage or are we here to part amiably?"

I was speechless.

That was a very intense lead-in.

"There's no wrong answer. It's just important to have a harmonious focus." Vera prompted.

Before I could open my mouth, Rosalie spoke.

"I don't want a divorce." Rosalie said, sure of herself and in a confident tone.

I exhaled, relieved.

"I… I can see he's miserable…" Rosalie began.

"I'm not-" I started to cut her off, but Vera motioned for me to wait.

"And… And, so I thought that was just the natural next step. My parents got divorced and… and yours did too, so…" Rosalie took my hand, nervously curling her fingers around mine.

I swallowed, looking away from her at just the mention of my parents' divorce.

Vera was taking notes. Obviously that was golden information that we were both the products of blended families.

"I don't want a divorce either." I said confidently, but kept my eyes on my hand intertwined with Rosalie's.

"And plus Father Carmine would be too smug about annulling our marriage because he didn't want to perform it in the first place." I attempted to joke, and I watched Rosalie smile back to me, finding her eyes and feeling lighter already.

"Well, that's good news. You agree on something incredibly important." Vera chuckled in the lightened mood.

My heart raced nonetheless and I had a sour taste in my mouth at the threat of vulnerability.

"I'm interested in something you said, Rosalie. Will you expand on what you mean about observing that Emmett is _miserable_?"

"I mean, he's got to be. All he's done since… since what happened, is take care of me every waking moment of every day."

"Since your miscarriage?" Vera asked.

A protective instinct made me shoot Vera a look for bringing it up.

Vera looked back down at her notes.

"Yes." Rosalie responded, looking down as her skin got paler. "It's been a year ago now... I've been a problem for a very long time."

"Don't say that. Grieving does not make you a problem, Rosalie." Vera said. "There is no right or wrong way to grieve, and there's no appropriate timeline."

Rosalie nodded.

"Does he say anything to you that makes you think he views you as a burden?" Vera asked.

My eyes widened.

"No. Actually, it's the opposite. He's just… incessant." Rosalie said under her breath.

This vocabulary made me alert, but I didn't want to startle her into censoring her words by looking at her.

"What do you mean?" Vera prompted. "Will you explain that?"

"He doesn't miss a beat. I'm perfectly taken care of. Every moment of the day. He won't fall asleep before me or wake up after me. He shields me… He's never missed a beat this whole year. He's _perfectly_ taken care of me..." Rosalie said, but something in her tone was dark.

"You sound troubled with that information?" Vera noticed too.

"No, it's just…"

My throat felt tight as I searched for answers, impatient as the silent seconds went by before Rosalie spoke to qualify herself.

"It keeps reminding me why I needed to be taken care of in the first place." Rosalie admitted, twisting her fingers nervously. "I can't move on."

"After… the baby…. You treated me like a patient…" Rosalie said. "Not your wife."

I clenched my jaw, letting her speak.

I didn't know what to say and I always knew what to say.

"You treat _me_ like a _child_ sometimes. You shelter me and shield me from things when you don't think I can handle them." Rosalie went on.

"Because I _worry_ about you, Rosalie. I don't want you to _hurt_." I protested.

She inhaled shakily.

"I guess I'm just trying to say that after we lost our baby, I felt so alone and so isolated because you didn't… You didn't go through it _with_ me. You were so _normal_."

I scoffed in disbelief.

"I wasn't _normal_ , Rose. I was _dying_. I still am, every single day." I responded.

"Well, it didn't seem that way to me. It seemed like you just wanted to _take care_ of me through it, and that made me feel even more alone." Rosalie said not acknowledging what I said.

"You _needed_ to be taken care of!" I said with wide eyes. "For a month, you couldn't do _anything_ for yourself. I fed you. I brushed your hair. I bathed you. I carried you."

She was silent, but her eyes were full of words I couldn't decipher.

"I just wanted us to help _each other_ through it."

"You were in _no place_ to do that." I protested. "I didn't have the luxury of falling apart. I had to keep it together for _both of us_. You were there, but you weren't. You didn't want to go through this with me. You were in your own world!"

"I didn't choose that!" Rosalie gasped. "It was trauma induced catatonic depression."

"I know you couldn't but that left _me_ no other options but to take care of you!" I argued. "I don't see how I did anything wrong by not letting you spiral out of control."

"I'm sorry, okay? I hate that was my first response." Rosalie responded. "I didn't want to go through this at all, but I knew if I could make it through, I'd make it through with you."

"I don't resent you for any of that. I really _honestly_ don't, but as soon as you _could_ make a choice, you chose to _leave_ me and go to Paris, so don't give me that. You _didn't_ want to go through this together." I ridiculed, my heart racing. "You didn't want that."

"You. _Left_." I said, and Rosalie looked at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. "You left me to take care of _everything!_ I had to work a hundred hours a week _AND_ deal with all the damn pity from everyone, console your father, deal with my parents, give back all of your baby shower gifts, and live alone in an empty house and walk by a nursery that would _never_ be lived in every single day. I had to take care of everything, because you wouldn't stay with me to do it. You _escaped_. Then, when you came back, you _still_ needed to be taken care of."

"What?!" Rosalie shrieked, turning swiftly. "You have _got_ to be kidding me! Paris was not some sort of _vacation_."

"Well, it certainly looked like one." I spat venomously.

"You're unbelievable." Rosalie tossed her hands up, rolling her eyes.

" _I'm_ unbelievable?! Do you _know_ what it's like for everyone to be laughing at you because your wife is so obviously and _publicly_ having an affair?!" My heart started to race. "What's unbelievable was that while I was busy picking up all the pieces back home, _you_ were making a joke of our marriage."

"Are you _kidding_ me?!"

"No, I'm _not_ kidding you." I snapped.

"I did _not_ have an affair." Rosalie said, grabbing my hands intensely.

I saw she wasn't lying. Her gaze was unwavering.

Nonetheless, I clenched my jaw and looked away from her.

"Hey. Look at me." Rosalie insisted, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at her. "You see I'm not lying don't you? You have to."

"Do I?" I challenged her, shaking out of her touch to distance myself from her.

"There's obviously a lot of pain you're both harboring…" Vera centered us. "But remember, no one's on trial. There's no room for fault here."

I swallowed and so did Rosalie.

My stomach was in nervous knots for being so forthcoming and harsh with her.

"All we have room for is how you want to move forward in your relationship. How do you want to live together and coexist?"

Rosalie and I were both nervous, but our eyes met and immediately Rosalie tossed her arms around my shoulders.

"I just want to be your wife again, Em." She breathed into my neck. "I just want to be your wife."

"What does that mean to you, Rosalie?" Vera pushed.

"I want it to be like these past four days. You treated me like your _wife_ for the first time in a long time." Rosalie looked at me deeply, knowing I'd know what that meant. "Everything was perfect."

Vera waited.

"I just want us to have lives again that don't revolve around losing that baby…" Rosalie said it like the words were spiked and ripped open her throat on the way out. "I want us to joke around, and travel, and go out, and talk… and…"

She trailed off as I took her hand.

"What's going on in your head right now?" Vera asked me.

"I want that too." I responded easily, keeping my eyes locked with Rosalie's.

It remained silent as I broke our eye contact.

"What do you think is in your way?" Vera asked.

"I… I don't know. I guess I just expected it all to fade over time, like a bad nightmare, but it hasn't." I sighed. "We _can't_ move on if we don't address this and fix it."

"Emmett, you have to acknowledge that your grief journey isn't linear." Vera said. "It's not something you can _win_ by doing the right things to get back to normal the fastest. It's not a step-by-step process that you can just run through checkpoints, though that's most people would like to believe. Don't be so distracted by trying to fix everything that you forget to enjoy the small moments of joy you can steal."

I nodded, remaining removed, but tossing her words over in my mind.

We went on with clinical, removed conversation, then Vera went back deeper this time.

"Tell me about your parents' divorce." Vera zeroed in on me.

"Okay, well. They'd gotten married really young. It was a quick split. My sister and I ended up with my mom." I responded swiftly.

Here it comes…

My stomach turned a somersault.

"How old were you?" Vera asked.

"13." I said.

"So, were you old enough to be aware there were problems between your mother and father?"

I darted my eyes away from her, but nodded.

"Did they fight around you?" Vera asked.

I nodded again, my heart starting to race.

"What would they fight about?"

"I don't remember." I lied.

"Did that disrupt your life in any significant way you could recall today?"

I shrugged, but felt my palms start to get sweaty.

Yes… In so many ways…

This was not a conversation I was ready for. It was a conversation I'd prepared a million times for, but Rosalie and I had never had it. After a while, I never thought I'd ever have to.

Vera waited.

"Sure. My mom took my sister and I to America while my father stayed in Cuba." I said.

"Have you seen him since?" Vera asked.

"No." I answered steadily.

"Have you wanted to?" Vera pushed.

After a long moment, I shrugged.

"Has he wanted to see you?"

I felt a lump in my throat and couldn't will myself to speak.

Finally, I did.

"I don't know." I mumbled.

Rosalie was watching me with wide eyes.

"What was your relationship like with your father when you were a child?" Vera asked, moving on.

I was anxious as I reopened doors nailed shut long ago. They'd started to get fuzzy since I hadn't let them see the light of day in a while, and I almost forgot what it sounded like when my father would laugh and sing around the house.

"It was fine."

"Tell me some things you enjoyed doing together when you were young."

"We played a lot of baseball." I said.

Rosalie was watching me intently since this was all new information to her now.

"That sounds like fun." Vera responded, but I knew she was prompting me.

I fell into the trap anyway.

"And, he'd tell the most elaborate stories while we picked flowers for my mom." I felt the corner of my mouth turn up as I remembered.

Rosalie squeezed my hand, noticing the smile start.

"Picking flowers for your mom was a regular occurrence?" Vera asked like this was incredibly important.

I bet she didn't know just how close she was…

"Yeah. It was."

"Was he a romantic?" Vera asked.

"Sometimes." I said, trying to stay removed, the smile disappearing as I remembered to stay on guard.

"What about when he wasn't being romantic?"

This was getting too close for comfort.

"How is this helping _our_ marriage?" I redirected, defensively. "The real problem is that we're grieving a child."

All the air was sucked from the room. Rosalie laced her fingers through mine tighter, seeming tense as she waited for my reaction.

I felt Rosalie's eyes on me full equally with worry and curiosity.

I couldn't meet her gaze.

"Frankly, I think you both have way too many personal issues for marriage counseling at the moment." Vera said plainly, but there was something about her honesty that made her words not so harsh.

However, Rosalie and I both stared at her with our mouths agape.

"So, in my professional opinion, I don't think your miscarriage is at the root of your distance from one another. I don't think you're being honest with yourselves about where this is all really coming from. Let yourself stay open, and I swear, it'll be like a Jenga tower, we'll pull the right block, and everything will fall down."

Rosalie and I were still shocked speechless at Vera's intensity.

"Fall down in a good way, like fall into place." Vera corrected herself to redirect. "But, you've _got_ to cooperate."

"Okay." I swallowed.

She let me rest for a moment and asked Rosalie about her own parents' divorce. Rosalie was far from reticent with this information, especially since it was pretty public knowledge to begin with. Her parents were both in the spotlight, so E News had detailed reports of her parents' split. It had even been a subject of a couple SNL skits. It was not a private affair that's for sure so Rosalie had to live pretty openly about that.

What she was less forthcoming with though was her relationship with her mother…

Vera was kind through it all, and handed Rosalie a box of tissues as she started to cry, recalling a summer in Paris with her mother. Her mother never held her or hugged her, even as a baby and this obviously messed Rosalie up a lot. I knew that, and knew that also had to be another huge reason Rosalie wanted children of her own – to make up for what she didn't have with her own mother.

Vera was understanding and had a very trusting demeanor to her so Rosalie kept opening up.

I put my arm around her shoulders.

It became clearer and clearer as Vera and Rosalie talked why Rosalie went to Paris this last time…

It helped me make sense of it all. I still couldn't accept it, but it did help me make _sense_ of it.

Rosalie was _starving_ for her mother's approval and attention, and she thought that losing her own child and hurting so tragically would bring out the maternal instincts in Camille. Rosalie _needed_ to be nurtured in a way that no one else but a mother could nurture her. She needed to be held and rocked against a woman that had a cosmic connection with her. Rosalie just wanted her mom to do what every other kid's mom did – soothe her when she cried.

But, she couldn't even do that…

"Thank you for all you shared today, Rosalie." Vera said with a kind smile, pushing her curly hair back from her face.

Rosalie smiled a little at her, exhaling as she relaxed.

"Did you learn something about your wife?" Vera asked me.

"We've… talked about this sort of thing before." I admitted, tightening my arm around her.

"Emmett knows pretty much everything." Rosalie sighed. "I mean… he had to. I don't know if you know how we met…"

"I do." Vera said thankfully. "So because he was your attorney first, you shared a lot with him?"

"It certainly helped gain my trust." Rosalie said plainly. "Then, he spent more time with me… and my father, and eventually my mother… So, after some time, he pieced it all together."

"He remembers everything and _listens_ …" Rosalie trailed off.

"Not many wives say that about their husbands in marriage counseling." Vera observed with a little chuckle.

"Yeah, well…" Rosalie hugged to my side with a little smile.

I kissed her hair, feeling her relax into my side, but I was still on edge. I still remained on guard.

"But, because of that, he's exceptionally observant… I'd asked for a divorce, and he immediately knew I was sublimating. He thought to finally bring me here. He knew I was just thinking he was… _like my mom_ – miserable having to take care of me – so I thought if I set him loose of his obligation and told him to leave me…"

"Do you see it like that, Emmett, taking care of her is an obligation?" Vera pressed.

"No. Not at all." I said, keeping my voice low.

"But, she rejects the fact you _want_ to take care of her. How are you reacting to that?" Vera asked, sitting forward on her elbows.

"Not well." I chuckled darkly.

"Why?" Vera asked.

"I just want to do everything right by her. I want to keep her safe and happy. I want to provide for her and make sure she's…" I trailed off, the words sounding hollow.

"You do that so well. And, I appreciate that so much, Em. It's not that." Rosalie clarified with wide eyes, squeezing my hand

"Then, what is it?" I asked, turning toward her, my heart starting to race.

"I just want us to be happy again. I forgot what it was like when you just… just _loved_ me instead of felt sorry for me. I just want you to love me again." Rosalie seemed a lot more confident to pinpoint her grievances.

I clenched my jaw, unable to sort through the tangled mess of my mind.

"Can you do that?" Rosalie asked.

I nodded, kissing her fingers.

"I do love you, and I'm so sorry." I said, my eyes locked in hers.

"I'm sorry too." Rosalie whispered, her fingers tightening around mine.

She gave me a little smile.

"Emmett, do you find a pattern in your life that taking care of someone equates to showing them love?" Vera asked, her eyes seeming to see straight down into my soul as I met them again.

I felt like I'd gotten hit with a ton of bricks.

Obviously the look on my face gave away something I was thinking in the tangled mess of my mind.

"I'd like to hear more about that. If I asked, who have you taken care of, I'd imagine that'd be a long list. I mean, that's also something you do for a career correct?" Vera raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." I said in barely a whisper.

"Where did it start, if you could pinpoint it?" Vera asked, kindness and understanding in her tone because she knew she was walking on shaky ground.

"I don't know." My voice was shuddering.

"You do." Vera observed with a nod.

I felt hot and claustrophobic as I scooted further from Rosalie to sort my thoughts.

"My father." I choked out, unable to believe I'd actually articulated those words out loud.


	21. Shine

_Hey everyone! THANK YOU FOR YOUR AWESOME ENCOURAGEMENT AND WORDS! Welcome new readers! I love you! I just got back into the country and so I was planning on updating earlier, but I appreciate your patience and continued support!_

 _Please please please pleaseeeeee leave a review to let me know your thoughts if you're reading! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK!_

 _Here's a little teaser chapter setting up some big things! I'll update soon!_

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

 **Shine - Collective Soul**

 _Love is in the water_  
 _Love is in the air_  
 _Show me where to look_  
 _Tell me will love be there_  
 _Teach me how to speak_  
 _Teach me how to share_  
 _Teach me where to go_

 _Tell me will love be there_

* * *

Peter: The Prodigal Stepson

 _1996, Queens_

Carmen bounced her knees nervously, tucking her dark curly hair behind her ears as she twirled her fork, just picking at her food. Her big brown eyes were full of thoughts and her forehead creased with worry.

My stepdaughter Maria was telling us about her teacher animatedly. She _loved_ school, and her first grade teacher was an angel, and _so good_ with her. Maria was a social butterfly and would talk to a brick wall. She smiled with her front two teeth missing, looking absolutely adorable in her favorite pink frilly dress and matching hair bow.

I nodded with an answering smile every so often as Maria told me her story about recess, but watched Carmen watch the clock out of the corner of my eye.

He should've been home two hours ago.

She'd called the school and they'd said he had left right on time and to account for transit delays.

I knew the MTA was unreliable, but not _that_ unreliable.

I sighed.

Carmen's son was fifteen and starting to rebel a little bit. Nothing too scary yet, but I felt like it was becoming more and more frequent that I scolded him for going to his room without making an effort to talk with us, staying out a little later after school, or not doing his chores.

When I scolded him, he stared defiantly back at me, not saying a word.

He knew that it made his mother and I angrier when he wouldn't respond than if he argued.

I remember being a fifteen-year-old boy, but I'd _never_ parented one, especially not one that made it obvious that I wasn't his real father. The more I tried to connect with him, the more he would withdraw.

I sympathized with him and tried not to push _too_ hard, but I was desperate for him to make an effort. More than all this though was that it was absolutely killing me the way his behavior broke his mom's heart.

She talked about what a happy kid he used to be, but I don't think I'd ever even seen him smile or heard him laugh.

It had been a full year since I'd married Carmen and we all moved to Queens. Carmen cited that as around the time of change for him and I couldn't help but feel guilty.

He'd even had friends in the South Bronx, but the move was necessary. They didn't live in even a remotely safe neighborhood for children and we needed more space to live as a family.

I'd grown up in the Bronx too so I knew his connection to the borough wasn't misplaced, but I found a great neighborhood with great schools here. A lot of my police force buddies had families here; so did a lot of firemen. It seemed safe and affordable, and it seemed to make everyone happy but him.

We lived in a small house, but it was still a house and he had his own room, which I thought he would like now that he was a teenager, but the longer we lived here the more reclusive he got so I couldn't help but feel guilty for uprooting him after he'd just started trying to put down roots in America.

"Should I…?" Carmen worriedly twisted her hands together, looking toward the phone, but as if on cue, the front door opened.

It opened with a swing, rushed and careless like it was going to swing off the hinges.

His head was down and he hurriedly shut the door behind him, dashing down the hallway and toward his room without a word.

"Hey! You're late." I called after him, but he didn't turn around.

Carmen started calling after him in swift and angry Spanish, ignoring her own rule about practicing English at home, but he still didn't respond.

"Your mother was worried about you." I got up from the table, following him around the corner, but he still didn't turn around.

"Sorry." He mumbled, swinging open his bedroom door just enough to slip inside.

I caught it on the edge before he could slam it behind him.

"You know she took off work so we could all have dinner together tonight after your first day at your new school. What were you getting yourself into that made you _two_ hours late?" I entered his room, and he turned his back to me.

He retreated into the corner of his room, seeming to only want to make sure his back was to me. He'd become increasingly defiant, and this was the final straw.

I put my hand on his shoulder, but he shook me off.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

He still didn't respond, and this time I grabbed his arm, turning him around so he'd have to look at me.

When I saw his face and how he flinched away from me, I jerked my hand back.

There was blood under his nose; his lip was busted and fresh blood was still running down his chin and out of his mouth; he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and I noticed the gashes on his palms like they'd been caught on concrete. His eye was freshly black and there was bright red staining the front of his white Metallica shirt that he'd asked for on his birthday.

He looked bad.

"Oh my God." I gasped, and he turned his face away from me, ashamed.

"I … didn't do any things wrong." He mumbled, his accent and odd grammar making his words almost unintelligible.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I shut the door behind us.

"What happened?" I asked, my heart starting to race.

He paused for a long time, obviously not wanting to talk about it.

"Hey, listen. You've got to tell me if someone's picking on you. I can help."

He was a skinny boy and had just gone through yet another growth spurt that left all his sleeves and pant hems just shy of long enough. Even now, his bony wrists showed under his jacket revealing his black and blue fingers and bloody palms.

His mother and I couldn't keep up with his growth spurts financially to keep buying him new clothes.

 _Of course_ he was getting picked on…

I ran a hand over my face, huffing. I blamed myself for not preparing him. This year, he moved to the high school and he was perfect bait for bored seniors.

What a first day welcome…

Unlike his little sister, Maria, I felt awkward and unsure of myself when parenting him. It came so naturally to feel valued by Maria and I felt like I instinctually knew how to be her parent. She had always been open to me, but he couldn't have been colder.

I don't know if this was because of her young age that they were on different timelines of accepting me into their family, but this moment of parenting him was perhaps the biggest insecurity I'd ever felt in my life.

I didn't know what to do.

I'd never had a child of my own, and I didn't know how he felt about me marrying his mom, especially as he was moving forward into his teenage years. I wanted him to accept, respect, and even love me one day, but it was still so early and he was so quiet so I couldn't ever get a good read on him.

I know I didn't have the slightest idea of what he'd gone through before he got to New York; it had only been three years since he'd moved to America, gotten a stepfather, changed homes, and had his entire life flipped upside down.

I'm sure that was a tough transition for _anyone,_ let alone a young teenager.

"We can get whoever did this to you in a lot of trouble." I said, my blood beginning to boil. "It's better for you to talk to us about it so we can help you and so you can focus on your school work when you're at school. "

He stared at me intently with deep-amber brown eyes, still not saying anything.

"We'll get the school involved and we can press charges if you want and…" I noticed my heart was beating unusually fast.

I was hurting _for_ him. It was making me sick to see him like this.

"Peter…" He started, furrowing his brow like he was deep in thought as he interrupted me.

I didn't respond, just waited for whatever he was thinking about.

"Will you talk slower?" He finally asked. "I…. don't understand."

My mouth hung open and my heart hurt as I looked at him sitting across from me so ashamed that he'd asked me that, and that he'd gotten beat up at school, and a million other reasons that floated in his brown eyes.

"I'm sorry." I said in a breath, a lump in my throat.

"My English… not as good as you think." He kept his eyes down in shame.

"It's okay." I swallowed, feeling a pit in my stomach.

"I'm stupid." He said matter-of-factly.

"No, you are not stupid." I argued.

"Everyone says so." He insisted, his black eye looking worse by the second.

He looked like he was on the wrong end of a Rocky movie.

I paused, letting him open up and take his time sorting his thoughts.

"The… _teacher_ …. asked me to read out loud today." He finally said like this was the most mortifying thing he'd ever experienced and that he had chosen his words carefully. "Some people… _followed_ …. me after school."

He seemed to be unsure if he'd picked the right words for me to understand and I realized why he got targeted and my heart sank. I also realized why he never argued back with me and why he was so quiet.

I sighed.

"Is that why they pick on you?" I asked, keeping my questions short.

He just nodded.

There was a light knock on the door and I knew it was Carmen.

He looked at me, panicked.

"Just a second." I said calmly.

"Is everything okay?" Carmen asked, her voice tainted with worry.

"Yes. Everything's fine." I responded.

She wasn't satisfied until she heard his voice, so he responded in Spanish halfway then seemed to stop mid sentence.

"Everything is okay. Peter is learning – _teaching_ \- me some school work I had difficulty from - _with_." He responded, correcting himself.

"Okay." Carmen sighed, still not satisfied. "Why don't you grab some dinner first?"

"In a moment." He called.

I heard her retreat nonetheless.

He sighed, sitting down next to me on the edge of his unmade bed. My skin burned and I just wanted to hug onto him and protect him, but I just sat next to him looking over his bruised and battered face. He'd grown up so much in just a year, but he was still just a kid.

He was just a _kid_ …

"Do you want to get cleaned up and I'll deal with your mom?"

He paused, sorting my words.

"I'll talk to your mom." I rephrased and he understood. "I'll bring your dinner in here tonight and I'll help you on your homework."

"You would do that?" He asked, looking down at his lap, wiping his mouth again from fresh blood.

"I want to protect you." I put my hand on his back feeling his protruding spine against my palm even through his jacket.

"I love you, kid." I said before I could give too much thought to it.

This was the first time I'd told him I loved him.

He noticed and looked up at me before darting his eyes away.

My throat felt tight with the rejection of the sentiment, but I understood his hesitation.

"Now, go on and get cleaned up." I encouraged standing from where we sat and making my way to the door.

He nodded, trudging to the door to the bathroom that connected his room to Maria's.

I closed the door behind me, Carmen's worried look meeting me instantly as I emerged into the hallway.

She didn't even have to speak.

"He got beat up after school by a group of boys from his class." I said, my voice low so he and Maria wouldn't hear.

"What?!" She shrieked, her hands coming to her mouth.

I hushed her lightly and put my hands on her shoulders.

"He's going to be fine." I whispered walking with her into our bedroom and trying to stay quiet as we talked.

She sniffed, her bottom lip trembling as she began to cry. Her big brown eyes dropped, and it broke my heart.

"He looks pretty bad, Carmen… But, he's more embarrassed than anything. His nose isn't broken or anything, but… it's going to kill you to look at him like that."

Carmen cried, covering her face. My heart started to race and I took a deep breath.

"Carmen, I don't care what I have to do, I'm getting that boy the best English tutor in this state." I felt my blood boiling as I thought about it. "And for God's sake, a jacket that fits and a pair of pants that covers his ankles."

I cleared my throat, determined.

"I feel like a failure." Carmen sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping her eyes.

"Don't say that. Kids are dumb and they just targeted him because they could." I grumbled. "And… His teacher made him read aloud today."

She huffed, obviously upset, and her brow furrowed.

"I'll have to talk to his teacher. Who does she think she is, singling him out like that?" Carmen was redirecting, and she started to really break down and cry.

She wrung her hands and I kissed her hair.

"He's in ninth grade, Carmen." I said in gentle protest. "He's just… got some catching up to do."

Carmen's lips were pressed into a hard line and her nostrils flared as she exhaled, accepting what I was saying.

"I know it's very important to him that he remembers where he came from." Carmen swallowed, her eyes on fire.

"I know that." I responded softly. "That's important to me too."

I knew she was saying he wanted to remember his culture, his home, and his _real_ father.

There was no room for me to be humanly hurt by my own selfish desire to claim him as my son.

How could I ever find a place in this kid's heart that had closed off to me so recognizably?

"But… It breaks my heart that he's so _different_ from the other kids here." She had a catch in her throat, wiping her eyes.

He didn't _look_ out of place here – he just had very dark hair and brown eyes, but I hadn't come across any other families that spoke Spanish, or any other language that wasn't some occasional German or Russian for that matter.

I knew what she was trying to say.

I took a deep breath, feeling guilty that I'd moved him to a place he hated and that his mother so obviously felt displaced in. I didn't know how to fix this…

I felt helpless.

"We've _got_ to get him an English tutor." Carmen sighed.

"I will make absolutely sure of it." I took her hands.

I heard the shower stop running in the bathroom so he'd hear us talking.

"I'm going to let him eat dinner in his room." I said, exiting the room and making my way to the kitchen to collect his dinner plate.

Carmen followed me, and put her hand on my arm as I made his plate with extra food on it. I knew he was so skinny because he was getting so tall, but still.

"I love you for loving him." She breathed, her eyes meeting mine fiercely.

I just smiled.

"He's a good kid, Carmen." I kissed her cheek. "You did a great job with him."

She exhaled, tittering in the kitchen and fiddling needlessly, but before I turned out of the room she took my arm almost urgently.

"Don't give up on him," She whispered. "He just needs some time."

I knew she was referring to my weariness about him retreating from me so obviously no matter how hard I tried to connect with him. I just nodded.

I knocked on his door lightly.

"You can entrance - _come in_." He said quietly.

He didn't look quite as gruesome now that he'd washed the blood off, but his black eye was just getting worse as time passed. I noticed his teeth were a little blood stained even as he drank the glass of water I handed him.

If even _one_ of his teeth was even _slightly_ chipped, I would make those little punks pay the dentist's bill. He'd _just_ gotten his braces off this summer.

"Before you eat dinner, let me make sure they didn't knock your teeth out." I insisted, closing the door behind me and setting his plate on an end table by the door that held a Darth Vader action figure and a stack of CDs that he had no CD player for.

Alice in Chains was on the top.

The youth these days…

"They didn't." He made a face, obviously not happy that I'd said that.

As he stood in front of me, I noticed I was looking directly into his eyes. He was as tall as me now.

I took a deep breath before I told him to open his mouth. He groaned in protest, but ultimately listened. I took his chin in my hand, turning his face slightly.

The blood from his mouth was just a little gash on the inside of his left cheek that would eventually heal itself. No missing teeth. Thank God.

As I held onto his chin, I studied his face. His nose really wasn't broken. There was a small cut on his head near his eyebrow that had stopped bleeding, but other than that and a black eye, he seemed okay.

The thing hurt the most was his confidence. Fifteen-year-old boys don't take very well to being the one on the underside of a fight, even if he was sucker-punched and outnumbered.

His eyes met mine for the briefest of moments before he recoiled, looking away and down as he took the plate from the table.

"Thanks." He mumbled, sitting down in the chair by his desk.

"Sure." I said, starting to make up his bed for him.

"You don't… have to do." He was caught off guard, pausing with the fork in his left hand.

I just shrugged.

"My dad always said that the path to success starts with making your bed." I remembered.

He took a bite, looking down.

"My dad was a Marine. You know, like the U.S. military." I explained.

He nodded, his muscles not as tensed so I knew he was relaxing.

"He died of lung cancer when I was 22." I said, trying to relate to him unsuccessfully.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, stopping to look up at me for a short second.

I didn't know where else to go, so I continued making his bed, searching for words to say.

"I still think about him, very often." I suggested.

He didn't say anything, and I tried not to look at him in anticipation.

I put one of the last pillows on his bed, knowing I'd have to turn around and say something else or sit in awkward silence.

I took a deep breath, finally deciding on what to say.

"It's okay to miss your dad. I'm not trying to take his place, but I do want to have my own place one day." I finally said, fully expecting him to shut me out like he did every other time.

"Okay." He said, his voice breathy and odd but he didn't look at me. I couldn't read him.

"When you're ready." I tried to clarify and not push him too much.

He ducked his head for a moment before putting his finished plate down on the desk behind him.

It was silent, but I tried not to pressure him. I picked up his backpack off the floor and sat it on the edge of his bed so he could get his homework out.

"What do you want to work on first?" I asked awkwardly.

He didn't respond and I wondered if he'd understood, but he eventually stood from his desk chair, keeping his eyes down as he came over to my side.

In a moment that seemed to last for an eternity, he looked from his feet and into my eyes before wrapping his long, gangly arms around my shoulders.

He hugged me tight, showing no sign of letting go as he squeezed. I realized I had to hug him back and I put my hands on his back tenderly and in total shock.

I heard him breathe, but he didn't have to say anything. I reveled in the sound of his inhale and exhale and I could not have loved him more if my blood was pumping through his veins.

This was the very first moment he let himself be my son and I wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.

"Now let's get to work. What are you reading in English class?" If I didn't redirect now, I'd surely cry.

" _To Kill a Mockingbird_." He responded with a groan as I let him go.

He regarded the exchange we'd had as natural and that warmed my heart.

"Oh, now that's a pretty good book." I widened my eyes.

It was actually the _only_ book I'd ever really finished.

"It's very interesting." I expanded.

"Not if you can't read English." He raised an eyebrow almost comically.

"Well, we can fix that." I responded, keeping it lighthearted as he produced a copy of Harper Lee's masterpiece from deep in his tattered backpack. "Why don't you read it to me, and we'll talk about anything you don't understand?"

He furrowed his brow, unhappy with this suggestion, but ultimately complied, opening the book to the beginning.

With a deep breath, he started reading _To Kill a Mockingbird_.

His voice was unsure and awkward at first, but as the days progressed, he began to sit up straighter, speak a little louder, and read a little more enthusiastically.

I was exhausted, picking up an extra job doing handiwork for an apartment complex, so I could pay for an English tutor that he saw after school every day and every Saturday, but I returned to hear him read every single night before he went to sleep.

In just six months time, he came home with a note from school that invited us to an end of school year awards presentation.

He'd smiled - the first time I'd ever seen him do it - telling us sheepishly that he wanted us to come and asked his mom if they could go shopping for dress clothes.

On the night of the event, we still had no idea what was going on, but I came in a suit that was 20 years old and a little too small to sit in a full auditorium of board members, educators, council members and politicians.

His mother found a dress on sale and Maria had beautiful braids in her curly black hair.

He sat front row in a full auditorium, bouncing his knees excitedly in black dress pants that were long enough for his gangly legs, a series of papers in his hand.

I looked down at the paper program in my own hands, seeing that we were at the New York Public School's Student Showcase for Academic Excellence.

He was brilliant.

I saw a number of public schools listed with a student's name beneath, a subject, and a topic.

That's when my eyes found his school. Below it said –

 _Emmett McCarty_

 _Literature and Public Policy_

 _To Kill a Mockingbird and Atticus Finch's Assertion of Legal Empathy_

That was my name.

That was _my_ name on _my_ son.

As they called this new name, he stood, his mother already crying silent tears and holding tight to a clapping little girl in her lap.

I put my arm around her and she smiled a wide, beautiful smile.

I was overwhelmed. He hadn't said a word and I looked at him prouder of him than I'd been of anything in my life.

He began his presentation as the student chosen out of his entire school to represent them, and his command of the English language was not just functional.

It was exceptional.

More than that though, he spoke confidently, easily, and charismatically.

He spoke like he was enjoying himself, like he loved what he was talking about, and like he was self-assured.

Everyone listened intently, and not because they were trying to make sense of what he was saying through an accent. They listened because he was brilliant.

He was the final student to speak and as he bounded off the stage and the audience was dismissed, his eyes caught mine first as he snaked through the crowd of people that stopped him every so often to shake his hand or compliment him.

I saw the mayor of New York City, Giuliani, clap him on the back proudly and his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

But still he looked my way.

Carmen sat Maria down as he approached, skittering over to him and throwing her arms around his waist because she couldn't reach his shoulders.

Again, he was getting taller.

She stood on her tiptoes and practically hopped to kiss him on the cheek with her red lipstick, and he laughed a perfect, soul-filling laugh as he half-heartedly protested and wiped his cheek off.

"I'm so proud of you, baby." She squealed hugging him tight again. "My sweet baby."

"Mom, stop. I can't breathe." He smiled as he said this, pulling away slightly.

His eyes met mine and I clenched my jaw, fighting everything in me that just wanted to cry.

"What did you think?" He asked me, his big brown eyes even wider than usual.

"I couldn't be prouder of you, kid." I wrapped my arm around the back of his neck, and he ducked his head to lower into my shoulder affectionately.

"My green card got approved so I… Mom went with me to change my name. I hope that's okay."

As I patted him on the back, I felt a tear race down my face.

"That's okay." I cleared my throat, holding him tight.

"Good." He exhaled happily.

"Look, I want you to hear what I'm saying because it's important and I mean every word." I put my palm on the back of his head familiarly, feeling his raven black curls in my fingers as I squeezed him close.

"One day…" I started, speaking slow to sort my own thoughts and to make sure he heard and processed every word. "One day - like they did today - you will talk and everyone will always listen. You will be the smartest man in the room and everyone will know it."

I pulled back to look at him, but kept one hand on the back of his head and one on his shoulder so he'd look straight into my eyes.

The corner of his mouth turned up, revealing a dimple on his cheek that made him look youthful.

"There will be days you'll have to crawl on your belly and days you'll be able to run, but you're a fighter, and you'll work hard for _everything_ in your life." I continued. "Everything you will achieve, you will have worked hard for, and because of that, _everyone_ will respect you."

His deep brown eyes searched my face as I felt a tear slip down my cheek so I gave him a small smile.

"Thanks Dad." Emmett said, a full, million-watt smile spreading on his face that was just contagious.


	22. The Wolves (Act I and II)

_Hey everyone! THANK YOU FOR YOUR AWESOME ENCOURAGEMENT AND WORDS! Welcome new readers! I love you!_

 _BECAUSE I LOVE YOU... HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER! Whooooo!_

 _Also: I apologize if I've made it seem Emmett's family isn't involved in his life. In fact, they really really are very close! Emmett's mom sponsored Rosalie's confirmation in the Catholic church and that's a big deal, and Emmett is veeeery close with his stepfather and his parents in my future chapters and in my ideas of him, but there hasn't been a real need to showcase those relationships until this point and later in the story. Rosalie and her life and her family have been the main focus until now just for the flow of the story, so don't get the idea Emmett's family is any less important or involved, it's just not been in the main focus until now so I could wait to set up some things._

 _Please please please pleaseeeeee leave a review to let me know your thoughts if you're reading! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK!_

 _Keep being creative and I hope you keep enjoying my writing! XOX - All my love!_

* * *

 **The Wolves (Act I and II) - Bon Iver**

 _Someday my pain_  
 _Someday my pain will mark you_  
 _Harness your blame_  
 _Harness your blame, walk through_

 _With the wild wolves around you_  
 _In the morning, I'll call you_  
 _Send it farther on_

 _Solace my game_  
 _Solace my game, it stars you_  
 _Swing wide your crane_  
 _Swing wide your crane and run me through_

 _And the story's all over you_  
 _In the morning, I'll call you_  
 _Can't you find a clue_  
 _When your eyes are all painted Sinatra blue_

 _What might have been lost_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Remind me of Home**

 _Present; Vera Sawyer's House_

My hawk's eyes darted over Emmett's face, searching, but not knowing what I'd find in those big brown eyes.

I could count on one hand the amount of times he'd even _mentioned_ his father in passing in the seven years I'd known him. I didn't know _anything_ about his father, not even his name. For all intents and purposes, _Peter_ was his father. _Peter_ is the man he meant when he said 'Dad' and so I thought that was that.

As Emmett's expressive face changed though, I saw for the first time he'd had another father – a lifetime ago – but a lifetime he had most definitely lived, no matter how removed from it he was now.

I watched those big brown eyes flood with a rush of memories of Cuba that he'd kept long locked away.

He took a swift inhale to keep from drowning in them.

I'd never seen him like this in my life.

I was so privileged in my upbringing that I only had heard in passing a few rumblings about the ostracized neighbor to the south and what life was like in Cuba.

A couple months after I married Emmett and began to spend more time around his family, I did a little research of my own.

After sifting through the rose colored glasses of tourism and digging a little deeper, I came across a photo journal. It was in the online archives of a newspaper from around the time he left for America

With the first glance, I closed my laptop, my heart racing rapidly.

It was a photo of what looked like a country under siege with all of the rubble and crumbling buildings where a long line of desperate people of all ages had collected. There was a photo caption that said they were waiting at a lunch counter for a meal of cosue – a mixture of flour and sugar.

The first person in line was a ten-year-old little girl, skinny as a rail, with hair cut short like a boy's and wide, despairing eyes.

I couldn't sleep that night as I imagined him as a child waiting in that line, hungry. I tried to hide from him that I'd done any sort of research because I had a pit in my stomach about what I'd seen.

I'd lain next to him, my head on his chest and my eyes fixated on the tattoo there of the Cuban flag right where his heart was and the phrase "donde comen dos comen tres" which meant 'where two eat, three eat.'

I found out after eventually breaking down and asking him that it was a little idiom that just meant there was always enough to go around.

Ultimately, I felt guilty and like I was betraying his trust the first whispers I'd read about the effects of the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the collapse of the Cuban economy that resulted in rampant and widespread starvation.

Once a few years ago when I was over at his parents' house, I'd seen a picture of him and Maria when he was about thirteen and they were celebrating Maria's fourth birthday.

They had just moved to America and he'd been _scarily_ skinny. It was hard to even recognize him with his sunken eyes and sharp cheekbones, and he'd turned over the picture and redirected my focus immediately when he saw my focus lingering.

He'd once told me he'd grown nine inches in six months when he was in the ninth grade. I'd heard a story his mom told me once about how the first time he'd tasted chocolate or even seen an apple, he was a teenager in America.

I couldn't help but suspect that his abnormal growth spurts were due to the fact he'd been malnourished and had finally started eating. Emmett didn't anticipate I'd come to that conclusion, and I didn't share that I ever had…

I had noticed he hated the water and didn't want to swim. I had noticed he never wasted food. I noticed he always wanted to fix things instead of throw them away, even now, when we had more money than we knew what to do with.

I noticed he was still insecure about his English all these years later, but how it made him upset Maria wasn't regularly speaking Spanish at home or teaching her kids any of the language. I noticed he would often forego a car and walk everywhere when I wasn't around.

I noticed he ceremoniously smoked cigars. I noticed he was still absolutely enchanted by snow.

I had noticed odd habits here and there that made it obvious he had lived another life before this one with me.

He'd never wanted to open the vault of those memories, sealed under his tattoo and deep in his heart, even for me. I'd eventually stopped even asking the simple questions because Emmett had been so reluctant to answer them, so I had become satisfied I'd never know what was behind those walls.

Presently, my heart raced as I waited to see if I was about to find out.

Vera tucked her chestnut brown hair behind her ear as she listened, furrowing her brow and obviously knowing this was the big Jenga block that she was talking about earlier. She was pretty in a plain, warm way and her lightly freckled face was like an apple pie so it was easy to assume she was just as sweet.

"How did you have to take care of your father?" Vera asked.

It was evident to her that Emmett had never talked about his biological father, even with me – his wife…

"He was… _sick_ for my whole life." Emmett swallowed.

My stomach dropped.

"Will you talk more about that?" Vera prompted and I waited.

"He didn't know he was sick though. He needed to be taken care of, but he… he rejected that." He responded.

I suddenly saw the subconscious parallel he made in his mind between that experience taking care of his father and taking care of me…

We were both unwilling, and a foreboding darkness in Emmett's eyes told me that his first experience with someone unwilling to be taken care of had ended poorly.

My stomach twisted, but I put my hand on his thigh as a signal that I was here.

His fingers inched atop mine subconsciously, feeling my presence.

I held my breath.

"Can we talk about that?" Vera asked, her voice soft.

After a long, hanging moment Emmett bounced his knees ever so slightly as a nervous response, but nodded.

"Yeah. He had – _has_ \- borderline personality disorder." The words felt hot as they scorched my eardrums.

I looked over at him, but he kept his eyes toward Vera as if he was trying to maintain her eye contact to test how unaffected he was by talking about this.

His voice was even as he spoke about something that was once so taboo like he was just talking about a movie he'd seen about some other character's life, not his own.

" _I think_. I mean, when I got to America all I did was read and try to figure it out – so it's not… not a professional medical diagnosis or anything but…" He mumbled. "He was – _is_ definitely not… _well_."

"What happened to make you think that?" Vera asked, remaining open.

Emmett frowned like he was still downloading information from his deep memory.

"Well…"

He sighed, bouncing his knees more rapidly and obviously this time as his fingers tightened around mine in an unconscious response to anxiety.

"He made a lot of mistakes."

"A lot of parents make mistakes." Vera narrowed her eyes, prompting.

"Not like he did." Emmett swallowed. "And I really don't think he ever meant to…"

"Did that allow you to forgive him more easily, to believe he didn't mean to?" Vera tested.

"Yes." Emmett answered plainly.

"Now, what about Rosalie?" Vera asked, seeming to want him to consciously make the connection that was already becoming apparent.

"She didn't mean to either…" Emmett mumbled this part.

I chewed on my bottom lip, knowing exactly why he was so quick to forgive _me_ all my own transgressions of the past year. Things were clicking into place and it was intimidating.

A terrible taste flooded my mouth as my eyes fixated on the barely visible scar above his eye where I'd thrown a glass at him.

I thought about all the times I'd been kicking and screaming while he picked me up out of the floor by the waist. I thought about all he had to do for me, all he had to take care of that he never should've had to…

"But, I don't think people are what they do." Emmett responded like this was going to explain his point with perfect clarity.

"What do you mean?" Vera pressed now, wanting clarification as much as I did.

I was still holding my breath.

"For a lot of people, it's just fundamentally… very _hard_ to separate people from what they do. I mean, a good person does _good_ things right?" He seemed to choose his words extremely carefully, and I wondered what would happen or what I would hear if he didn't try as hard to do so.

Vera nodded, remaining wordless as he tried to collect his thoughts.

"But, I don't know if it's always that simple. Do you think a good person can do bad things sometimes?" He asked again rhetorically. "I guess I mean, do you think we're good or bad or do you think there's some flex room in the middle? I don't know the answer to that at all and I guess that's why I'm an attorney – to make sense of it all. Are there good people and bad people _at all_? I mean… Rosalie… Rosalie's the best person I know and… no matter what she ever did, that didn't change for me."

I didn't deserve him.

Guilt flooded through my veins and I choked on a threatening sob, but if I started crying I wouldn't stop, so I clenched my jaw as tightly as I could muster. As my teeth grinded together, Emmett took another deep breath to consciously make another connection.

"And, my father was – _is_ – a good man, but…"

His anxious energy seemed to vibrate through the whole room. The weight of it was crushing me, but I resisted, pressing back into its thickness.

I was suffocating, and it was becoming intensely difficult to breathe. Our cosmic, otherworldly connection had me tied to him in unexplainable ways. I felt his pain as plainly as if I'd just stabbed myself with a kitchen knife through the pit of my stomach. I felt his anxiety and nervousness as plainly as if I were trying to breathe underwater through a coffee stir.

He was silent, seeming to also bend under the weight of his cavernous memories.

"You don't have to say anything…" I said softly.

His eyes met mine now, shooting toward me with urgency and question.

Emmett exhaled, some of the tension relaxing. I exhaled with him, gripping onto him protectively.

I brushed my fingers through his hair, trying to gain entrance into his thoughts through the depths of his brown eyes.

"I know I don't." Emmett said before turning to continue. "But you did."

"If you would like, please continue." Vera crossed her ankles, leaning forward in obvious interest.

Emmett took a long moment before finally taking a deep breath to prepare to share.

"Growing up, I absolutely idolized my father. I thought he was the best person in the universe. I wanted to be just like him. But, that… that came with a lot of _confusion_ once I really understood what that meant." Emmett darted his eyes down, stopping the nervous bounce of his knees as he tried to redirect and focus.

"He could do _no wrong_ in my eyes, so it was very confusing to me that he did ' _bad_ ' things because I was so very certain he was the best person in the world…"

Emmett loosened his fingers around mine as he was transported millions of miles and years away from where I was sitting here next to him.

"My parents were _madly_ in love and I knew what that meant even as a little kid. I could _see_ it. They were always dancing and kissing and laughing. Our house was always filled with music, and I was… _happy_. That's the most confusing part… I was happy. My mom was _happy_."

"My father was the _best_ most of the time. But, he would…. He would randomly just… _snap_."

"What did that mean, when he would snap?" Vera asked.

"He would… He would go through these periods where he'd be intensely angry and anxious. In an uncontrollable and irrational way…"

Emmett trailed off.

His eyes revealed that he was lost in the labyrinth of those unvisited years and he couldn't stop running through the maze…

"Sometimes, when he'd… go through a really bad _episode_ … He'd knock her around, hit her, beat her…" He tensed up and I tried to remain stone still, not even daring to breathe.

He ran his hand over my thigh though in a subconscious gesture wanting to connect himself to me. I would gladly be the weight tied at the end of his string to keep him from floating too far away.

"I _loved_ him though and he loved me and he loved her. He made it very _obvious_ he loved her. He always kissed her after he hit her and he'd say he was sorry and he wished he could stop but he couldn't. After she'd cry, she'd kiss him back and they'd dance around in the kitchen."

I laced my fingers through Emmett's noticing he was bouncing his knees again.

"He was _in love_ with my mother, and I thought that her having black eyes and busted lips were just parts of it all. I thought that's how you showed it. I just thought that's how you treated a woman when you were arguing."

A metallic taste in my mouth made me think I'd bit down too hard on my tongue and had drawn blood as my eyes darted down. I couldn't pretend all of this new information didn't intimidate me.

"He'd apologize and kiss her then say he was going to kill himself so he could stop hurting her; this would upset me of course and upset her because I was inconsolable about that and because she loved him – she really, _truly_ loved him, and so we'd have to watch him all day and all night to make sure he didn't do anything irrational. I had to stay up with him sometimes and then go to school without any sleep so I really started to get behind..."

Emmett sighed.

"Did he ever hit _you_?" Vera asked at this break in a very calm and soft voice; this obviously was important information.

"No. Oh, no. Never." Emmett shook my head fervently, as if he was absolutely unable to imagine that.

Then, as he bounced his knees he took a new deep breath as if that made him remember something.

"When I was like four or five or something, I let him tie me to a pipe in the alley behind our house to prove to him I wasn't going to run away from home…"

I froze, my eyes wide and my heart beating in my ears so I wasn't sure I heard him right.

"He made sure I was comfortable and the rope wasn't too tight then he sat out there with me and he taught me how to read. It wasn't anything… _out of the ordinary_ for me, so I wasn't scared or hesitant to do anything like that for him. That happened probably once every few months or so for years until…"

"Until you _left_?…" Vera finished his sentence in a ghostly tone.

Emmett's face went white, his brown eyes seeming bottomless.

"Yes." He finally nodded, his voice sounding nothing like his own.

"How was that then, leaving for America without your father?" Vera asked.

I watched him start to spin out of control and he found my eyes in a way to tether himself back to reality. I noticed his grip around my arm had progressively gotten tighter and his hand was trembling. My skin throbbed under his grip, but I put my hand on top of his, looking over at him with iron eyes.

"Emmett, you've done enough." I said, keeping my eyes strong and unwavering.

He looked at me like he couldn't hear me, and his eyes looked to be a trillion light years away.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently.

He kept my gaze, taking a few deep breaths before his grip loosened and I noticed the white streaks of where his fingers had been on my skin fade back to normal.

Emmett nodded.

I kept his eyes as I pushed his hair back by his ear.

It could've been a millisecond; it could've been a thousand years, but after some time, he sunk toward me so his forehead was on my shoulder. He draped his arms around my shoulders so I was all but holding him in my lap.

Shock was a prevalent emotion as I rubbed my hands over his back in comfort. I'd never seen him like this. My heart raced, and I knew I had to be there for him as he'd been there for me so many times before.

I was strong so his weight didn't crush me as it might've as he downloaded years and years of memories back into the forefront of his brain.

His breath was even on my neck and I spread my fingers on his back as I held him up. He didn't say anything, so I waited as I trailed my fingers through his hair and he shivered, ultra-sensitive to my touch.

My fingers lingered at the curls toward his neck and he sighed into me, tightening his arms around my shoulders.

"I watch you every second of the day to make sure you aren't going to hurt yourself, or throw yourself down the stairs, or cut your hair, or bleed out at a restaurant, or verbally abuse everyone around you, or make dangerous decisions, or ruin yourself doing something impulsive…" He trailed off and I got a sour taste in my mouth as he pulled away from me. "I'm exhausted."

His eyes darted over my face and I saw the absolute anguish in his irises.

"I know." I swallowed the lump in my throat that made my voice shake.

Vera was rapidly taking notes, but I almost didn't notice her.

"But, I'd take care of you over and over again every day because I _love_ you." Something came over him and he kissed me desperately like we were the only two people on earth.

My heart started to race as he held my face in both of his hands, not releasing me.

"I love you more than _anything_ , Rosalie. I'm never leaving you. I can't. I can't do it, and not because I feel obligated, but because I love you. I know that. I really do." Emmett panted in between kisses. "You said we can't stop hurting each other, but I don't care. I'd rather hurt with you than be a second without you."

"I'm sorry." It was all I could say against his mouth.

I couldn't pull away from him, and he held my face strong in his hands.

"I know I can be too much. I know I've messed up, but I'm trying my best and I know it's not enough or it's not right and it's... But, I can't leave you." Emmett begged frenziedly, kissing my lips and my face again and again.

"I know. I know." I repeated when I could, my heart racing to the pace of his kisses.

"What about when _she_ left you?" Vera interrupted and it all halted abruptly.

Our connection screeched to a stop, and Emmett let me go like I was a scalding hot frying pan.

I panicked as I looked over his face, but his eyes softened before he spoke.

"It's okay." He sighed as if the words he'd lifted out of his mouth were monstrously heavy.

"You forgive her?"

"Yes." Emmett nodded, seeming to come to this conclusion easily.

"Why?" Vera pushed.

"There was always a part of me thought I had it coming." He mumbled, taking a deep inhale as he looked down at his lap. "So… I got more defensive about you doing what you needed to do when you went to Paris than I really needed to be I guess."

"No, Em, you were…" I protested, taking his hand and squeezing his fingers, fighting for his gaze.

"Why did you think you had it coming? Because you left your father?" Vera interrupted me.

Emmett nodded, pausing a long moment and looking away from me.

"He was so hard to live with, so hard to accept and forgive, so hard to take care of. He got worse as I got older, and before we left, I couldn't remember the last time he'd had a _good_ day without a breakdown or some sort of episode. He made us all miserable and we were already hungry and poor so he wasn't helping anything…"

"I… I was… _relieved_ when I helped push that raft off the sand and into the ocean. I didn't have to… take care of him anymore." Emmett said in a haunting tone.

"You were a child. You couldn't shoulder that kind of responsibility." Vera offered, her eyes kind.

"I was the only one that could reason with him." Emmett responded, furrowing his brow.

"How did he take it when you told him you were leaving?" Vera asked.

Emmett looked like he was going to be sick. I put my hand on his back, feeling him exhale.

"We… _didn't_ tell him." Emmett admitted, keeping his eyes down. "He didn't even know we were leaving."

Emmett bounced his knees nervously and my stomach dropped at the sight of him in pain.

"He got arrested at a protest on my birthday, and Castro had just said whoever wanted to leave could go, so… so my mom thought it was a perfect opportunity to leave." Emmett's words sounded sour and I ran a hand through his hair. "It was on a whim, so we only had the clothes on our backs before we found a raft one of our neighbors had made and jumped in it."

"Did you think that was a good idea?" Vera asked

"At first." Emmett said. "After our ninth day on the ocean, when I started hallucinating, I didn't."

He laughed without humor.

"And, no. I didn't want to leave Cuba. I was happy there. I loved Cuba. It was my _home_. I was ripped out of my home." Emmett's tone was tragic as he looked down at his hands.

"Do you resent your mother for that?"

"No. She was doing what she thought was best for us." Emmett said honestly and truthfully. "And it has been the best thing. It's been a much better life here for us, but it was still my home and I still didn't want to leave."

"Have you ever felt at home since?"

Emmett paused for a long moment, his face turning white as he looked over at me.

"It's okay, Em." I said, but the anticipatory pain was evident in my tone since I had a sinking feeling he was going to say no.

Then, he did something I didn't expect.

He put the heels of his hands up to his eyes, sitting forward so his elbows were on his knees.

I didn't dare even breathe, and after a long moment, he took a jumping inhale like…

That's when he sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling again with his eyes tightly shut. He cleared his throat as his eyes opened and I saw they were red.

He was crying. It was still the most shocking and heartbreaking thing I have ever seen in my life.

Instinct told me to put my hand on his back, and at my contact, he wrapped his arms around me once more, hugging me close and kissing my hair. I heard him fight the urge to cry before he kissed my forehead this time, still wordless. He tilted my chin up to look directly in my eyes, and brushed my hair away from my face to look at me.

" _You_ are my home." He eventually said with a shaking voice so I knew he didn't want to be overcome with emotion, but his eyes started to glisten.

I remained silent, my eyes searching over his face as he stroked my cheek. My furrowed brow betrayed my bewilderment over his display, and he darted his gaze down to escape mine.

Then, after a sigh he got the courage to look back up at me

"You are _my home_ Rosalie, and the only home I'll ever have anymore." Emmett's gaze was intense, but I didn't cower from it.

I reveled in it.

My heart raced out of my chest, and I gripped onto him like we were being sucked away from each other and he was going to fly out of my fingers any second.

He gripped me just as tightly.

"And… And when you were broken, everything about my _world_ was broken." A single tear collected at his eye and I reached for his face.

He kissed the palm of my hand.

"I can't lose my home _again_." Emmett sighed into an enveloping embrace. "I can't do it."


	23. Save Yourself

_Hey everyone!_

 _Please please please pleaseeeeee leave a review to let me know your thoughts if you're reading! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK!_

 _I'm so excited for this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing these next few about Emmett and Rosalie developing their relationship and backtracking on their foundation. A few notes: Rosalie's speech is inspired by Natalie Portman's at the Women's March. More from Emmett's family is coming up soon! They make a HUGE appearance in one of the next couple chapters._

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie . Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Save Yourself – Kaleo_

 _It weighs heavier on one's heart  
I could tell right from the start that sweet ones are hard to come across  
Well there is more than meets the eye  
I like yours as red as vine  
Someone else's gain will be my loss_

 _Well, little things that make you smile  
Dancing barefoot in the dark  
If only I had strength to change your mind  
Oh for what you need  
You will not see  
Choose your words before you speak, oh  
Can you see that all you've got is time?_

 _Oh darling save yourself for someone else_

* * *

 _ **Emmett: I'd Kill For You**_

 _Five Years Ago; January_

"I was just eleven years old when a magazine published an online countdown for my eighteenth birthday, when it would be legal to sleep with me. I was twelve when I found my father had been hiding fan mail from me and opened one up only to find a letter detailing what a middle aged man in Oklahoma wanted to do to me. I was thirteen when I did a swimsuit ad that had the whole world commenting on my blossoming sexuality. I was fourteen when a talk show host asked me about my virginity on national television and I was just fifteen when it was stolen from me – along with the realization that most of my childhood had also been stolen." Rosalie spoke with a confident, even tone into the microphone.

Rosalie Hale had absolutely transformed in front of my eyes. I wouldn't have believed this confident person was inside the girl that sat across the table from me in Carlisle's conference room just two short years ago.

I stood beside her onstage now at the Women's March as she held her microphone and spoke to thousands and thousands of people with the utmost assurance.

After her trial, Rosalie had told me that she felt lucky. She had cried and said she couldn't bear to live in a world where people got away with what happened to her.

I agreed with her fervently.

I told her the best thing she could do for other people like her would be to talk about what happened to her. I knew it was hard for her. I knew it brought her so much pain, but it really did encourage others and inspire change.

I asked her again if she was as strong as I thought she was, and again… She said _stronger_.

It wasn't a lie.

"One day, I hope my daughter is up on this stage talking about how far our world has come from the world her mother grew up in. I hope she is surrounded by women that are celebrating a world where women are uninhibited. They are celebrating a world where they can dress however they feel most confident. They are celebrating a world where they're taken seriously as women in the workforce. They are celebrating a world where they don't have to be afraid to be alone. They are celebrating a world where they can express themselves without any barriers."

"But, that is a distant future because now, at seventeen, I'm criticized for being too serious, too modest, too uptight, too holier-than-thou, too fragile, too Puritanical, too conservative… But, after what I went through, I felt that I had to completely shift my behavior. I can't feel safe if I express myself sexually because men can exploit and objectify my body - so of course I dress the way I do and present myself the way I do and only take the jobs I know won't make anyone think of me as a sexual being… Until the world around me changes, I would much rather be called a frigid prude than get raped at work. I don't want my daughter or any of our daughters to be faced with that same choice."

Rosalie's voice shook only slightly, and I watched her tuck her hair behind her ears like she did when she was especially nervous. She looked down at her notes on the podium and took a deep breath.

"Sitting across from my attacker in the courtroom was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, but I really hoped coming forward would promote awareness and action, but also could speak to the people that have felt like they didn't have a voice. I hoped that talking about my experience here today speaks to the people who want the freedom to express themselves without fear."

"And, Emmett –" She used my first name familiarly – "encouraged me that a victory in my case would be a victory for the future, and he wanted me to fight. Because this would be a victory for my daughter. For all of our granddaughters and their granddaughters."

She smiled a radiant smile, stood tall, and had her dainty shoulders back and down to show her ease in front of a crowd.

"Emmett has proposed some absolutely incredible legislation that's up for vote this term and has created programs for workplace conduct that will change the experience of women and girls in America forever. This is a huge step toward the sustainable and systematic change this revolution is all about. We need your help and your voices to make this a reality."

The crowd hooped and hollered and she smiled a brilliant smile over to me as she passed me the microphone.

I explained all the logistics and how to register to vote and how to contact their representatives and encourage their votes.

I'd spoken before Rosalie so I noticed the receptiveness and power of the crowd, but I also noticed the size of it. It made me nervous and I'd been speaking in front of crowds for a long time. I wasn't shy or reserved like Rosalie, and so I worried about her, but she really pulled through and delivered a speech that would be remembered for all of time.

Over the past two years, Rosalie and I had become unlikely friends. I had grown to know her best through our constant traveling, Mass service, and her father's frequent invitations to dinner, cigars, drinks, and poker.

She was a truly magnificent girl: headstrong, enchanting, thoughtful, and undoubtedly… _beautiful_.

As I passed the microphone back to her, her eyes sparkled in a way that made me have to look away.

There was nothing more attractive to me than a strong, confident woman, and I couldn't be attracted to her. She was off limits.

"Let's keep this revolution rolling! It's time for a new workplace culture where no one has to be afraid to show up for their job and do their very best." Rosalie then signed off the microphone and as the audience cheered, we thanked them before we walked off the stage together.

She exhaled.

At just seventeen, she had a voice people listened to. Not many people had that gift.

"That felt good." She said with a smile in my direction.

I smiled back at her. I knew what a journey it had been to get her to this place. I knew it was just as hard to tell her personal testimony today as it was the first day she told me in that boardroom almost two years ago now. She'd experienced unimaginable horror, but her courage was giving others courage too.

After a full, exciting, inspiring day with some of the most influential voices of our generation, we headed off to grab some dinner. We were laughing about something stupid I didn't remember when from the press line, a man with beady eyes started yelling questions and comments at Rosalie.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary; all the press was yelling at both of us, but I could hear the reporter yell a few inappropriate things to Rosalie here and there. It was nothing more than basic catcalling to try and get her to stop and answer questions for some alt-right blog he probably ran.

We never would've noticed him if not for something he said that struck a nerve.

He told her when she looked like that she deserved to get raped.

That language sent me over the edge. _No one_ deserved that. _No one_ was 'asking for' what she went through.

No one.

I didn't even look back to see how she reacted before I turned on my heel, rage absolutely blinding me as I locked into his eyes.

"Talk to her like that again, I _dare_ you." I growled.

I would kill him. Easily.

The man laughed in my face.

"Back up, man. I can say whatever I want to that dumb whore. It's a free country." He shoved me and I just saw red.

"Are you sure you wanna keep running your mouth?" I grabbed his lapels looking down on him.

"I wanna get out of here and have your girl calling me daddy all night." He looked around me, sneering in her direction. "Why don't you show me what's under those clothes, baby?"

I don't even remember what I said or what happened. It was like something just took over me.

"Stop! Emmett! It's not worth it!" Rosalie begged, her dainty voice pulling me back from the brink.

"A doll face like yours likes it rough." He snickered to her. "I'll give it to you so hard I break you in half. Show you a real man."

"Emmett, listen to me! It's fine!" Rosalie shrieked, pulling me back from the brink. "Let's go!"

I didn't realize I had him off the ground until I dropped him at the sound of her voice.

"You know she didn't fight back. She obviously liked it." The man's chin lowered and his arrogance made me want to kill him.

I grabbed his lapels again.

"Emmett! It's fine!" Rosalie pulled on my arm.

"No, it's _not_ fine." I said, but finally let the man go at the pleading in her voice and at her touch. "No one should talk to you like that."

I shoved him so he stumbled to the ground but I really just wanted to punch him in the face and keep punching until he was dead.

I barely noticed that pictures were being taken until Rosalie ducked her head against the flash.

"Rosalie? Are you okay?" I saw the brokenness in her eyes, but she kept her head down as she turned away, walking toward the open door of the car waiting for us.

One of Rosalie's assistants put their hand on my back to urge me to get in the car.

If I turned around and saw that man again, I'd surely kill him, so I followed her.

I climbed in the car, boiling until I focused back on Rosalie.

"Are you okay?" I asked her again quickly, desperate to make sure.

I saw her wipe her eyes with the back of her hand before she turned around to face me, forcing a light smile.

"I'm fine. Really" She repeated, her voice a little too high pitched.

I didn't press her.

"Do you need anything?" I asked vaguely.

She stayed quiet for a long moment then closed her eyes.

I looked down at my hands and they were still shaking. I'd find out who it was and I'd go back and kill him.

"I've told you this before, and I'll tell you again. You know you didn't do anything wrong, right?" I asked trying to keep my voice even.

She didn't respond and she kept her eyes closed.

"Rosalie, tell me you know you didn't do anything wrong."

She inhaled slowly, and opened her eyes but still kept them away from me.

"Everyone has this idea of what they think they would've done and what you should've done, but they don't know..." I went on. "They weren't in your shoes."

There was a natural instinct to reach out and comfort her that I aggressively fought against.

"There was nothing you could've done." I said.

She pulled her knees up to her chest in the seat, leaning against the window.

"How do you know?" She asked quietly. "That there was nothing I could've done."

There was a lump in my throat where something I should say was pushing its way up, but it was too personal and too deep.

I couldn't.

It killed me that there was still such a battle in sexual assault cases surrounding whether the victim fought back or not. That was one of the biggest sticking points for jurors in every case I'd ever prosecuted and I didn't understand why. We don't ask people that are mugged and robbed whether or not they resisted…

"Your brain's involuntary protective response…" I trailed off in a mumble, because I knew I wasn't saying the right thing.

She didn't want to hear something clinical and thought out. She needed to hear real genuine comfort.

Rosalie sighed.

"That doesn't make you weak." I said, trying to fight for her eyes now.

My hand was close enough to hers now to grab it.

Of course I didn't though and we pulled up right outside her house where the driver stopped to let her out.

This time she looked at me and I got lost in those beautiful violet eyes.

"Will you stay with me?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper.

I nodded.

"Sure. Whatever you need." I exhaled.

When I was hypnotized in her eyes, I would've agreed to slice out my own tongue if she'd asked.

I went to open the door and she grabbed my hand. My skin was scorched by the fire of her fingertips and I would've jerked my hand back if it weren't for the look in her eyes when I turned back to her.

She jerked her own hand back now, retracting it to her side.

"I don't want to go home." Rosalie said, her voice low and coming from a place deep in her core.

I swallowed at the look in her eyes. I hadn't seen it before.

My skin tingled where she had touched me, but I tried not to pay attention.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked obliviously.

I had no idea what was going on in her head.

"Anywhere." She said. "Anywhere no one knows me; no one expects anything of me; no one tells me who I am; no one wants anything from me…"

Her request was so simple, yet she was asking so much.

It was heartbreaking.

I realized I would do anything for her many times before, but I realized it again now in this moment.

I leaned forward telling the driver an address. It was a split decision, but it would hopefully do.

"Queens?!" Whether it was surprise or alarm, it was apparent in her questioning.

I laughed, a full-bodied laugh.

"You're acting like I'm taking you to Mars or something."

"I mean, practically." There was a tug on the corner of her lip that was almost a smile.

I begged it to continue.

"Don't tell me you've never left Manhattan." I widened my eyes in teasing.

"I mean I have… But…" Her smile faded and she looked away.

"Not to Queens." I corrected, begging for her to smile again. "We should've taken the 7 for you to get the full experience."

She chuckled a little at this, but didn't seem to know what to say.

After a moment, she asked.

"What's in Queens?" She looked out the window as we crossed the Queensboro bridge.

"You'll see." I smiled a little, hoping she'd like where I was taking her.


	24. Only If For A Night

_Hey everyone! THANK YOU FOR YOUR AWESOME WORDS AND THOUGHTS!It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK! I really want to encourage you to leave reviews for each chapter pleasepleasepleaseplease! I really get discouraged when I don't know your thoughts and it gives me some writer's block sometimes!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one. I think this really gives an insight on who Emmett is and really makes his character develop. I like seeing some reasons come up on why Rosalie would fall in love with him too._

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Only If For A Night - Florence + the Machine_

 _And I heard your voice_  
 _As clear as day_  
 _And you told me I should concentrate_  
 _It was all so strange_  
 _And so surreal_  
 _That a ghost should be so practical_  
 _Only if for a night_

 _And the only solution was to stand and fight_  
 _And my body was bruised and I was set alight_  
 _But you came over me like some holy rite_  
 _And although I was burning, you're the only light_  
 _Only if for a night_

 _Madam, my dear, my darling_  
 _Tell me what all the sighing's about_

* * *

 _Emmett: Two Coffees, No Sugar... Maybe_

 _Five Years Ago, January_

She sat up a little more, looking out the window as if she were on a tour of another planet.

"Is your dad okay with you being out late?"

We'd traveled a lot together, speaking and lobbying, but this would be different. This wasn't for work.

"He's in Milan." She said with a shrug, not turning around from where she watched

the Manhattan streets transform into the streets of Queens.

"Well, what about Elizabeth?" I asked.

"I don't answer to Elizabeth." Rosalie snickered like that was an outrageous thing to say.

"She's your step-mom, Rosalie."

"She is _not_ my mother." Rosalie snapped, obviously distinguishing the difference.

She was hostile, but she didn't turn around to punish me with the icy glare she had mastered.

I didn't know how much hatred she harbored for Elizabeth and I didn't know her story, but it was apparently full of cold resentment. There was no love lost between the two of them.

I didn't want to assume things, but I got the feeling Rosalie didn't even give Elizabeth a chance. Rosalie was an intensely reserved person passed an immediate judgment that Elizabeth wasn't her mother, and Rosalie didn't want to share her father's attention.

"Should _someone_ know you're out with me?" I pushed, really not knowing what Robert would have to say about this.

It had been a while since I'd been seventeen or had to worry about curfews or anything like that. I wondered if I was being ridiculous. Did she worry about that sort of thing? Did she have a curfew? I knew she was more of an adult than most "adults" I knew.

She seemed annoyed, and sighed now exasperatedly before turning back to look at me.

"Why are you treating me like I'm a child?" She rolled her eyes.

I didn't know what to say so I didn't respond, and I looked out the window. It became apparent just how vast our age gap was. It was just twelve years, but it seemed like a few lifetimes when I brought it up.

Honestly though, I was treating her like she was a baby because it was easier that way. It was easier when I labeled her off limits.

 _Of course_ , I noticed she was beautiful, and the more I heard her talk, the more I knew her and the more I knew her the more I couldn't deny that I had started to fall for…

"Stop the car." I said urgently.

I noticed a little girl crying alone on a bench off Flushing Avenue. She was looking around desperately.

She looked lost. She couldn't have been more than five or six. She shouldn't be alone.

It was freezing tonight.

Rosalie climbed out of the car behind me and into the biting cold, understanding immediately my intent.

Her violet eyes were wide with worry.

"Will you talk to her, she's more likely to-"

"Of course." Rosalie cut me off, shivering and looking up at me.

We approached the little girl slowly, but she almost started to run.

"No, wait! Are you lost?" Rosalie asked as softly as she could muster.

The little girl whined, looking away but stopping in her tracks.

I stood a few paces behind Rosalie, and she looked back at me to see if she was doing the right thing.

"Where are your parents?" She tried again.

She looked up to her with big brown eyes and pulled her skinny knees to her chest.

I knew that look in her eye.

She didn't understand what Rosalie was saying.

I knelt down beside the bench and asked the little girl in Spanish.

She looked at me with relief and answered.

"She wandered out of a grocery that's on Linden Street if I remember correctly. She's wandered quite a ways." I told Rosalie.

"Should we call the police?" Rosalie asked.

The little girl recognized this word and fear struck her eyes. She told me that her mom didn't want her to ever talk to the police.

Then, it hit me.

"No. We can't." I told Rosalie.

"Why, what's wrong?" She asked quickly, noting the tension at the mention of police.

"We have to find her family without the police." I said, mumbling.

I was no stranger to this, and it hit close to home. I wished I could help. I wished there was a better system. I wished there was a fairer pathway to citizenship. I wished a lot of things…

The little girl told me her name and told me where she lived. Mariana told me her mother's name and described the restaurant where her mother worked. I'd seen it before I was almost certain. It wasn't too far from here.

She was just lost. She couldn't read the street signs. She couldn't ask anyone for help.

We could find them.

"I'm so sorry, Rosalie. I can get Frank to take you home." I said.

"I'm staying." She said crossing her arms against the frigid cold.

I sighed, then told Mariana we were taking her to her mom. She threw her arms around me, crying again.

I noticed Rosalie was watching me, but when I turned to her, she looked away.

Mariana told us where she lived and said her grandmother might be home.

It was just twelve blocks.

I thought it would scare her to get in the car with us, but I offered anyway.

She told me her mom told her not to get in the car with strangers and I told her she had a good mom.

But, it was cold, even for January.

I asked Mariana if she wanted some hot chocolate for the walk, and she smiled with a resounding yes.

I updated Rosalie in English and told Frank to follow us in the car as we walked toward the bodega down the block.

"Do you want a coffee?" I asked her.

"Everyone trusts you." Rosalie noticed as we approached the door.

Something was brewing behind her eyes.

I shrugged as I opened it for her. Mariana skipped through and Rosalie followed shortly behind.

"My God you've got an angel face." The owner, an old man with white hair and a thick Russian accent said at the sight of Rosalie. "Hope you don't mind me saying."

He winked at me and I just shrugged, trying to stay removed at the mention of being a couple.

Rosalie blushed slightly and dropped her eyes with a little thank you.

"Now, about that coffee?" I asked, leaning on the counter and looking at her.

"I can get it." She said, pulling her purse around.

"Two coffees and a hot chocolate." I said, refusing her money.

This wasn't _real_ coffee, Cuban coffee, that absolutely slapped you awake, but it would do.

"Where ya from?" He asked, making conversation, while he rang up the total and started making the drinks behind the counter

"South Bronx." I said, referring to my first home in New York though that's probably not what he meant.

Most of the time, I didn't have to elaborate.

I noticed Rosalie was leaned in, listening even though she was pretending not to and was twirling a piece of her hair around her fingers.

"What part?" He asked.

"Hunts Point." I responded, taking the coffee and handing it to Rosalie.

He noticed my clothes with skepticism. I knew he thought my clothes were too nice to live in a place with a reputation like Hunts Point.

"You made something of yourself." He didn't ask. He observed. "Good for you."

I just nodded. There wasn't much I could say to elaborate.

I shifted into conversation with him and found out he'd moved from Russia in the '90s. He told me about his beautiful daughter and her stupid husband. He told me stories about his first grandchild, and he laughed.

He handed me the hot chocolate and Mariana then accepted it with a grin.

I told her how to tell him thank you in English and she looked up at him with big brown eyes and told him thank you in English.

The accomplishment in her eyes hit home and I had to look away from her to avoid a flood of my own memories.

"How do I say 'you're welcome'?" The man asked me genuinely and I couldn't help but enjoy how our world worked for a second.

My optimism wasn't misplaced. The world really was round.

He attempted the Spanish phrase for her and she grinned up to me with excitement. There was nothing better in this world than feeling understood.

I swear stuff like this turned me into a sap.

"Cute kid." The man said with a little grin.

He seemed to be adding up the years when he looked back at Rosalie.

Rosalie blushed a bright scarlet, but said thank you regardless.

I tried not to even think about what he was thinking about as I opened the door for Rosalie and Mariana and we set off into the cold.

As Rosalie pulled up the hood of her coat around her ears I warned Mariana her hot chocolate would be too hot right now.

"Do you ever meet a stranger?" Rosalie asked, tilting the coffee to her mouth for a sip.

"I don't suppose I have." I shrugged.

"I wish I was like that." Rosalie sighed, bracing herself against a fierce wind that picked up.

I rolled my eyes, but then I asked Mariana if she was okay in the cold. She told me she was fine, but I gave her my scarf anyways and bundled her up.

"Will you tell her I have gloves?" Rosalie offered slipping her fingers out of gloves that probably cost more than Mariana's rent.

"You can tell her yourself." I said, then told Rosalie how to tell her in Spanish.

Mariana seemed to understand what was happening and waited expectantly.

"I can't." Rosalie said, turning her head.

"Yes, you can." I encouraged her, repeating the phrase again, slowly.

She looked up at me with wide, unsure eyes as she echoed the words with a soft, easy accent. Her words were seamless, though her vowels were a little nasalized and she seemed to soften the words a little.

It sounded a little like French.

I knew her mother was French, so I wondered if Rosalie spoke it.

"That was actually _really_ good. Now tell her." I said, stopping so Mariana was now staring up at Rosalie eagerly.

Rosalie held out her hands with the gloves and told Mariana she could wear them. Mariana said a beautiful English 'thank you' as she slipped her tiny fingers into the gloves. Though Rosalie's hands were dainty, the gloves were still big on Mariana but she clenched her hands into fists, enjoying the warmth.

"Your Spanish is beautiful." I told Rosalie.

The look in her eyes made me realize that what I'd said.

Her cheeks flushed, but I told myself it was from the cold.

I hadn't meant anything flirtatious by my words, and I hadn't meant it to be loaded. I hadn't meant anything but its face value.

Then, she smiled a new smile, one I couldn't acknowledge. One I had to have imagined in my own trend toward egotism.

"Do you speak French?" I asked to redirect.

"Oh, my accent…" Defeat touched her eyes, and shoved her hands deep in her pockets, shivering again.

I had the deepest instinct to put my arm around her so I just put my own hands in my own pockets.

"No, it was fine." I tried to recover the fact that I'd just inadvertently insulted her. "I just…"

Rosalie laughed a little.

"It's okay. I know." She said with another little smile. "I worked so hard on French sounding native to me that I'm not even ashamed it shows up when I attempt the other romance languages."

"Did you spend a lot of time in France growing up?"

Rosalie tilted her head to the side.

"Well… Sort of. When my parents were together, we spent every waking moment in Paris it felt like." Rosalie remembered fondly.

"Tell me about it." I asked, noticing the light in her eyes and wanting it to grow.

"O-okay." She seemed to search her memory, and then settled on a tale of her family on the Seine, and eating lavender and honey macarons while she watched her mother paint.

It was truly extraordinary, the idyllic childhood she conjured. I could almost taste the summer air she described.

Rosalie was truly happy in this moment, and I couldn't help but notice that she was truly… _radiant_.

"So your mother taught you French?" I asked, trying to focus on something other than her beauty in the moonlight.

"No." Rosalie snorted as if that was a stupid question, and the light in her eyes disappeared.

"I learned from other people, tutors mostly, but really, I just thought… if I learned French, I'd be closer to her." Rosalie spoke softly like this sort of vulnerability was hard for her, which I knew to be true.

I swallowed, knowing she was attempting to open up to me.

There was something so terrifying about the trust in her eyes…

But, that trust that terrified me, also all at once made me strong. Seeing myself reflected in her eyes intimidated me. She expected so much from me. She thought I was better than I was.

What was that going to do to her?...

I cleared my throat and freed myself from the chains to her violet eyes.

"I know what you mean." I said.

I asked Mariana if we were getting close to places she recognized.

"Did you always know English?" Rosalie asked.

"Ha. No." I snorted a little laugh, but wondered if it was because I'd pronounced something wrong so I was a little defensive.

"Why?" I pushed.

"I was just curious." Rosalie shrugged, looking away.

"I learned when I was fifteen." I answered her question a little more thoroughly if that's what she was getting after. "Why? Did I pronounce something wrong?"

I tried not to sound too alarmed, but it was apparent in my tone.

"No." Rosalie said, her eyes darting back up to my face to see if she'd offended me. "I was really just wondering. You obviously speak it very well."

We turned the corner and started toward what I hoped was Mariana's home if I knew the area like I thought I did.

I didn't know how to respond so we kept walking in the cold.

"You know so much about me." Rosalie said, keeping her gaze down. "Since the trial and all… And I don't know that much about you."

I eased up and chuckled a little.

"You're out walking late at night in an unknown part of the city with a stranger." I teased.

"I just want to know some more about you." She gave me a little smile, obviously sensing the good humor.

"Well, what do you want to know?" I asked.

"I…" Rosalie was stumped. "Well, okay… um… You're really from Cuba?"

"Yes." I answered easily.

"Why did you come here?"

"My mom brought my sister and I. Political refugees I suppose is what we're called." I responded.

"What about your father?" Rosalie asked.

"Next question."

"So Peter?..." She'd met my step-father so she was trying to piece it together.

"Has been my dad since I was fourteenish." I said the best way I knew how.

I hoped to redirect her with my short answers.

"Do you still have family in Cuba?"

"Yes." I said, the question too close for comfort.

"Have you been back to see them?"

"No." I shook my head, watching Mariana closely.

"Do you want to?" She asked.

"I don't know." I said, removed, to keep her from pressing.

"Then you moved to South Bronx?" Rosalie moved on.

"Yes."

Mariana told me that the pet store we were approaching looked familiar.

I smiled, seeing the ease and feeling of safety wash over her.

"You obviously don't like me being the one asking questions." Rosalie narrowed her eyes.

"My answers just don't satisfy you." I held up my hands in surrender.

She huffed impatiently.

"Okay, maybe a little something more open-ended than 'yes. No. I don't know.'" She lowered her voice to mock mine and I laughed out loud, hearing it echo through the streets and warm up each of my 206 frozen bones.

She pulled her hood up further, but I saw she was grinning ear to ear when she hid her face.

"Okay… Open-ended. I promise at least a three word response." I swore cheekily and she crossed her arms over her chest turning back toward me.

"Tell me something good about when you were a kid." She requested sweetly, her violet eyes wide.

"Well, my first summer in New York…" I started, but she shook her head.

"I want to hear about when you were a kid in Cuba."

"Why?"

"You were a teenager when you came here. There's a whole childhood unaccounted for."

I disregarded and furrowed my brow. No one had ever really asked me about Cuba – sure a few reporters here and there for a profile, but I never had to really _say_ anything.

Rosalie undoubtedly saw my reticence.

My sister Maria had been too young to remember anything and my mother wanted to separate herself so far from Cuba and my father that she never wanted to talk about it.

Any time I would speak Spanish in the house or I'd say anything about Cuba in front of Maria or Peter, my mom censored it because she thought I wasn't trying to fit in or find home here. It was as if my entire childhood didn't exist because I wasn't really _allowed_ to remember it in every day conversation.

"I mean, you don't have to…" Rosalie said, conscious of my hesitation.

"No, I was just thinking about what I'd say…" I exhaled. "No one ever really asks…"

"Well then I'm glad I did." She smiled.

As I opened the gates of my memory, I found myself smiling too.

Then, I told her about a summer on the beach at Santa Maria del Mar with my childhood friends. I listed their names, speaking them for the first time in decades. Rosalie didn't know this of course, but I smiled when I said them, full of nostalgia and wistfulness at the way it felt in my mouth.

I didn't tell her any of that, but she listened with wide eyes like I was telling her nuclear launch codes and she had to remember it all with perfect clarity.

I told her we had ice cream and stayed out in the sun forever, but I didn't tell her that we had all shared the ice cream or that it was one of the only ice cream cones I'd had before I moved to New York. I looked more European than my friends because my grandmother on my dad's side was Russian so I got her skin tone and was able to get it from a store reserved for American tourists.

I didn't tell her how I remembered one of my friends, Liliana, having me repeat 'can I have an ice cream?' in English again and again and again so it'd be believable. That was the first English I ever learned and even now, there was something about ordering an ice cream cone that was sentimental, even if I wasn't allowed to really remember why.

Then, I noticed a small group of people at the end of the street and I thought I heard them speaking Spanish, every once in a while crying out a name…

 _Mariana_

I turned to her and she lit up like the sky over the Hudson during the 4th of July.

"Mamá! Mamá!" She started to run, her dark curls flowing behind her.

A young woman with long raven black hair broke from the crowd of searchers and sprinted toward her.

I grinned at the display of overwhelming relief as the woman knelt to accept the child running into her arms.

There were plenty of tears, and I looked over at Rosalie who was also smiling at the love so evident between them.

There was lots of kissing and hugging as a community – _a family_ – reunited.

I noticed Rosalie's fingers made lingering contact with mine. I didn't know if it was the cold, or the sheer shock of her contact that could explain the jolt of electricity through my body.

I paid no mind.

Finally the woman looked up to Rosalie and I with tears still overflowing when she started pouring out gratitude in broken English.

I responded in Spanish and she threw her arms around me, kissing me on the cheek.

I chuckled, and we quickly engaged in conversation. The old woman with long white hair beside her must've been Mariana's grandmother, and did the same, throwing her arms around me and kissing me on the cheek.

I noticed Mariana's mother begin to throw her arms around Rosalie and I held my breath.

Rosalie winced, tensing up all of her muscles in an obviously defensive response to the contact. After a kiss on the cheek, Rosalie looked like she was going to turn inside out.

Out of protective instinct, I took her arm, pulling her back closer to me slightly – and she looked up at me with some odd emotion in her eyes. I couldn't place it.

Time stood still for a moment, with our eyes locked and my hand on her arm; then Rosalie exhaled, looking away and I dropped my hand from her.

I proceeded with caution into the next conversation, but I told them I was an attorney and had emigrated from Cuba. I told them I'd try to help with immigration if I could.

Mariana's mother and grandmother exchanged a look and then the mother looked down to Mariana and up to Rosalie and back to me. Their eyes darted a million different directions, surveying the situation.

Not everyone was as lucky as my family was.

Mariana's mother took me aside for a second and we talked privately about her options. I didn't really specialize in immigration law, but I did do a lot of pro bono work in this area on the side.

She had run from a husband that beat her and her daughter.

The taste in my mouth was vile. I hated imagining Mariana in a situation like that. I hated imagining a situation like that.

I gave her my contact information and told her she'd be safe.

I swear I got another 64 kisses before they believed they'd adequately expressed their gratitude.

I knelt down to tell Mariana goodbye and she searched over my face with large, brown orbs.

"Thank you." She said confidently, and tossed her arms around my neck.

Her mother grinned at me, surprised at the English sentiment and then insisted she give Rosalie and I our winter scarves and gloves back.

I told her she could keep the scarf, but the gloves were much too big for her and so she held them up to Rosalie.

Rosalie accepted them with a soft Spanish 'thank you' and Mariana threw her arms around her legs, hugging her tight.

Rosalie smiled a little smile and then after another few minutes of goodbyes, I insisted we all get out of the cold.

I lost myself thinking about immigration so I was fuming and I closed my fists as Rosalie and I walked back toward the car.

"What did she tell you?" Rosalie asked with wide eyes, noticing my disposition had shifted.

"Nothing…" I sighed, trying to calm down.

"I hate not understanding." Rosalie frowned.

I hated it too, so in sympathy I recapped the overview of what Mariana's mother told me about the abuse they ran from.

"It makes me sick to think about…"

"That's terrible." Rosalie exhaled sadly, her eyes dropping.

I just nodded.

As we walked back to the car, Rosalie's hand brushed mine again.

And again, I paid no mind and dismissed it as accidental.

Rosalie and I climbed into the back of the car, and Frank cranked the heat up high as we unthawed.

We both shivered with a few uncomfortable laughs here and there between chattering teeth.

Shortly after I dismissed her earlier contact as accidental, she proved it wasn't.

It was well thought out.

She threaded her arm under mine, and wrapped her palm around my bicep.

I eventually chalked up her behavior to the cold, as she pulled closer to me, shivering again.

I'd seen her shy away from hugs from her father and even wince at her step-mother's attempts at affection. She'd never hugged _anyone_ with two arms or let anyone touch her for more than three seconds.

And… she'd never even brushed by me before tonight.

I didn't know whether I should acknowledge it or not. I didn't know what the best thing to do was.

I should say something; just make conversation to prove this was commonplace.

Why was I making a deal out of this? She was just cold.

Did I _want_ it to be something else?

"Are you okay?" I finally asked, overwhelmingly concerned since she'd never acted like this before.

"It's so cold…" She just nodded, keeping her gaze down.

I looked down at her frozen fingers and put my hand on top of hers to warm her hand up faster.

I felt her exhale, and this melted her a little closer to me.

There was something… _intimate_ in what was such a simple gesture. She had her hand on my arm. I put my hand on top of hers. That was it…

But, I felt closer to her than I'd felt to _anyone_ in this moment. I willed myself to look away from her, even though my eyes were desperate to learn the curves of her lips.

If I did that though, I'd want to kiss her…

I clenched my jaw, shoving the thought far from my mind.

What was wrong with me?

After a long minute of silence, she slowly and tentatively placed her head on my shoulder.

I closed my eyes.

Something was happening. Something was changing.

I was anxious and my stomach was in knots. I couldn't explain it, but something was happening.

She sighed before she seemed to reluctantly tilt her chin up. I was taken aback by the mistiness of her eyes, but she didn't let go of my arm.

"What made you this way?" She asked softly.

"What do you mean?" I responded in a mumble.

Her eyes met mine and now she pulled away from me, creating thick space between us now.

"People trust you." She said.

I chuckled and felt a light embarrassment tint my cheeks. I didn't know what to say.

"I just want to know why you do what you do - why you feel so… _convicted_ to help people like you do." Rosalie elaborated, staying far from me.

"I guess just to feel like I'm doing something decent with my life." I answered.

The answer was recycled and removed. There was something in me that felt as though I owed her more.

"Why did you decide to become an attorney and do all this?" She asked.

"The first book I read in English was _To Kill a Mockingbird_ and I just felt drawn to the idea of real justice."

That was deep enough.

My heart raced and I looked out the window too, enhancing the physical distance between us as the conversation brought us closer.

Before I could fight the overflow of words, I spoke more openly than I ever had – to anyone.

"And, I... I think about how I can stand up for people in a way they can't stand up for themselves. I am able, and so I should… If I can make things right and set things straight, who am I to sit back and let bad things happen?"

Rosalie's fingers were centimeters from mine.

I didn't dare move.

I felt her soft fingers inch atop mine so they made icy contact.

I cleared my throat and moved my hand just slightly enough that she retracted.

"I feel… I feel _safe_ around you." She said, looking over at me.

Her violet eyes were vast and I got lost in them for a moment.

"I'm glad." I said, keeping my voice low.

Rosalie was still so far from jaded by this broken world…

She sat forward, and I could smell the scent of lavender surrounding her.

It was intoxicating.

I stared into her purple eyes, mesmerized.

If I met her half way, our lips would touch.

What was she doing?

What was happening?

It shouldn't. It shouldn't happen.

Did I want it to?

"We're here." I diverted and Rosalie sighed lightly in defeat.


	25. Don't Blame Me

_Hey everyone! THANK YOU FOR YOUR AWESOME WORDS AND THOUGHTS! It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK! I really want to encourage you to leave reviews for each chapter pleasepleasepleaseplease! I really get discouraged when I don't know your thoughts and it gives me some writer's block sometimes!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one! Rosalie is in Emmett's world now! What kind of shenanigans will ensue?! Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Don't Blame Me - Taylor Swift_

 _I've been breakin' hearts a long time, and_  
 _Toyin' with them older guys_  
 _Just to play things for me to use_  
 _Something happened for the first time, in_  
 _The darkest little paradise_  
 _Shakin, pacin', I just need you_

 _For you, I would cross the line_  
 _I would waste my time_  
 _I would lose my mind_  
 _They say she's gone too far this time_

 _Don't blame me, love made me crazy_  
 _If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right_  
 _Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_  
 _I'd be usin' for the rest of my life_  
 _Don't blame me, love made me crazy_  
 _If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right_  
 _Oh, Lord, save me, my drug is my baby_

 _I'd be usin' for the rest of my life_

* * *

 _Rosalie: Don't Inhale_

 _Five Years Ago, January_

I followed him, my heart racing as I kept my eyes focused straight ahead.

Could he see it in the cold, clear, night air like I could?

It was much better to chalk it up to naivety or ignorance than to accept that he was fully aware of my advances on the development of my feelings for him and had rejected me…

My ego was too strong to accept that he had been cognizant in the denial of my affections.

Maybe I had to be a little more obvious…

But, what else could I do besides spell it out for him?

Honestly… What if he had a girlfriend? I'd never asked _obviously_. He'd never talked about her to me or in front of me so I assumed he didn't. But, what if he did?! I mean, why would a guy like him be single anyway?

My stomach sank as I accepted this assumed truth and I followed him forward in this breathtakingly cold night.

I mean, why else would he be able to deny my advances? He was spoken for… I was devastated.

He stopped on the corner, and I could confidently say I had no earthly idea where we were, but assumed we were still deep into Queens based on the Mets flag hanging from a building a couple windows down.

Emmett reached for the door with a sign above it that said: _El Manzano._

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"The apple tree." He said plainly, but this gave me no real answer as to where we were.

"After you," Emmett smiled politely as he opened the door to a brownstone building that was so small it could've fit into any of the buildings in Manhattan.

"Where are we?" I asked, hearing music sung in Spanish and people laughing and talking quickly in a language I didn't understand.

Emmett didn't answer, but I watched his face change as we crossed the threshold and into the membrane that housed the music and heat.

I'd never thought he was reserved, uptight, or detached. In fact, I imagined him far from those things – but the way he relaxed as we walked through the door made me think he'd just shed a layer of his skin.

He looked at _home_. He looked unreserved. He looked free, and the freshness of that look on his face absolutely took my breath away.

He was _striking_.

I fell in love with him in that moment all over again.

And now… it was different. It was overflowing out of me like liquid over the rim of a teacup. I wondered if he could feel it.

Emmett's dark brown eyes looked deep as an ocean as he looked out into the room we'd just stepped into. His eyes seemed to take in everything at once, but didn't spare a detail. It seemed he could've been asked to sketch the room a year from now and he would've paid so much attention he could recall it precisely.

His jaw was strong and confident like he was in his element, and his smile was unabridged as it spread across his face. I had to consciously fight the impulse to stand on my tiptoes and kiss the dimples on his cheeks.

His smile didn't just touch his eyes, it radiated through his whole body and into the room around him. It was like sunshine. I swear I felt the room get warmer.

He ran a hand through his curly raven-colored hair and excitement seemed to overflow into his fingers as he shrugged out of his coat then reached to help me out of mine.

As this caused me to turn my back to him and rip my eyes away from the splendor of beholding him in this moment, I looked around at the place that seemed to bring this side of him out.

The walls were weathered dark brick, or golden plaster, the lights were low but bright enough to see the bright green shutters acting as doors from the back and that seemed to lead downstairs. A macramé hammock hung in the back and a couple of people were swinging and talking while they kissed and drank cocktails.

He hung my coat on a nearby coat rack as I let my gaze dance over the new world he'd brought me to. Art hung on the walls that looked like street art, folkloric and true to the atmosphere – full of soul. A man poured more full glasses from behind the bar in the corner and there were people dancing in the center of the floor where chairs and tables had been moved to make way.

It looked like I'd just stepped into a scene from Dirty Dancing or something. The vibrancy of youth was astounding, even in the men and women with wrinkles around their eyes and smile lines near their cheeks.

I'd never seen something so beautiful.

Everyone seemed to be in love with someone or something even if that something was just the food they were eating, the cigar they were smoking, the drink they were drinking, or the life they were living.

Love was _evident._

I inhaled. My dad had smoked cigars a few times growing up, but this was a new smell. It was the smell of cigars, good food, alcohol, and something else…

I'd soon learn to recognize that smell as sex.

There were green plants all around the room, and the whole space looked like I hadn't just come off a quiet street in Queens. It looked like an indoor open courtyard, with a street of brightly colored buildings creating a world right inside of the one we'd just walked from.

Everyone was talking loudly, so I almost didn't notice a girl with raven colored, curly hair had called Emmett's name and was throwing her arms around his neck until she had already done it.

He twirled her around in his arms and immediately kissed her on both cheeks familiarly. She was radiantly beautiful with big brown eyes and long black lashes. Her dark hair was unruly and pulled back from her face with a barrette, but the way her bangs and curls fell around her heart-shaped face made her look effortlessly sexy.

She wore a light pair of faded blue jeans that hung low on her curvy hips. The olive skin of her stomach showed slightly from the bottom of her white tank top. A light sheen of sweat made her skin seem to glow.

This girl was for lack of a better description _smoking hot_.

She was curvy, like a woman, but looked about my age – maybe just a little older.

I looked down, my cheeks turning a bright scarlet.

Then, a little girl about four years old squealed as she ran up to jump into Emmett's arms.

She was a skinny little girl, with long limbs and knobby knees. Her neck was long and swan-like, and her hair was dark and curly like the woman that must've been her mother to add a mature gracefulness to her gangly, childish figure.

I thought I was going to throw up. Irrationally, I thought this was his wife and child even though I knew he didn't have one. He didn't even wear a ring. But, in the moment, I was irrationally devastated by the girl in front of me.

This was her. This was the reason he wouldn't kiss me.

The woman next to Emmett looked on to the little girl adoringly, and then her dark brown eyes met mine.

"Since my brother is so rude and wouldn't introduce me, I'm Maria!" She said with a thick, deep Bronx accent.

This was his _sister_ …

I'd known he had a sister, and I'd met both his parents and had heard them talk about Maria and her daughter Camila, but I didn't put it together when I saw her.

I couldn't help but smile at this, and sigh a little at just how much my heart had dropped at the thought of this girl being a romantic interest of his.

Of course that was irrational.

I saw the same dimples on her cheeks as she gave me the same wide smile. Her eyes squinted she smiled so big.

I tensed up only slightly as she kissed me on both cheeks.

"I'm Rosalie Hale." I said politely, looking back to the little girl in Emmett's arms because those light green eyes were just magnetic.

"Rosalie, now _that's_ a beautiful name." Maria raved. "This is Camila."

"Nicetomeetcha." Camila said in a Bronx accent just as deep and her piercing green eyes met mine, sparkling.

She was a _beautiful_ little girl.

I noticed how much she looked like Maria, so the traces of the feminine version of Emmett's features on her face made me uneasy.

Then, she hugged back to Emmett's side shyly.

"Now, in Spanish." He prompted her, but she buried her head deeper in his shoulder.

"Please tell me you've been practicing." Emmett pleaded with her, brushing her long black braid over her back.

She shot her head up, shaking it back and forth so her hair whipped side to side.

"Why not?" He asked, shooting Maria a look that was a mix between betrayal and annoyance.

"Can I go play now?" Camila wiggled and he set her down as she ran off toward the corner where some other kids were playing.

"You try keeping her still enough to learn anything." Maria said sharply, but still full of lightheartedness as she looked back to me.

Emmett tugged on the end of Maria's hair like an immature teenager full of teasing and she squealed as she tittered over her appearance, making sure her curly hair wasn't out of place even though it was already wild.

They had a quick sidebar conversation in Spanish, before he turned back to me.

"Are you hungry?" Emmett asked me with wide eyes.

I noticed how empty my stomach felt, and even the mention made it growl.

"A little." I shrugged, but my eyes wandered to where people were dancing.

A couple near the outskirts were close enough to mesh into one body. It made my cheeks flush red.

"Let's get you something good to eat." Maria said excitedly. "Mamá knows what she's doing in the kitchen."

"Is this your parents' restaurant?" I asked and Maria looked back to Emmett with an anticipatory smile.

"It is." He said plainly.

"It's really his. This is what he gave them for Christmas a couple years back." Maria was full of life and teasing as Emmett put his arm around her shoulders. "He's the favorite child of course."

She wrapped her arm around his waist hugging to his side, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"That's really amazing." I said with a little smile.

"It's true. I am the favorite." He shrugged, leading us toward the left side where there were some empty tables.

A few men were smoking cigars and playing cards at one of the tables in the corner and they looked up, giving warm Spanish greetings.

Their eyes were heavy on me and I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, balling my fingers into the fabric. I chewed on my bottom lip, uncomfortable.

Emmett seemed to know them and had a short conversation with them before I saw his mother come from behind the green shutter doors.

"Hey baby, I thought I heard your voice!" Carmen, his mother, threw down an apron on a nearby table and made her way over to him.

I thought it was amusing to view him as her child. It wasn't hard to imagine him as a child with that boyish grin on his face and it made me smile too to see him so unweighted and happy here.

"Of course you heard his voice. You could hear him yelling from a mile away in the middle of Manhattan." Maria teased him about how loud he talked and he shot her a look.

Carmen reached up, throwing her arms around him like she hadn't seen him in years, standing on her highest tiptoes even as he bent down for her to kiss him on the cheek.

She looked strikingly young - too young to be Emmett's mother - and had shoulder length, curly black hair and her perfect olive skin and wide, round brown eyes that made her look even younger. Carmen had a tiny frame and was a little shorter than Maria, who was a few inches shorter than me so Carmen was more than a foot and a half shorter than Emmett.

He definitely took after his father. I couldn't see Emmett in her features at all, except that raven colored hair. Even though they didn't look alike, some of the animated faces she would make in conversation seemed to be a habit for Emmett too.

"Hey Mom." He just laughed, kissing her back.

"Rosaliá!" She exclaimed the variation on my name, tossing her arms around me now.

I really had to get used to how much these people hugged and kissed each other.

Then, it made me think about how open with physical affection Emmett was with everyone but _me_ …

I appreciated his reticence of course, but there was something in me that was starting to warm up to the idea…

How could I get him to see that?

"Hey." I said softly in an awkward greeting. "How are you?"

"I'd be much better if you'd let me feed you." She put both of her hands on my shoulders, seeming to size me up.

"I swear you get skinnier every time I see you."

I immediately felt self-conscious.

"That's why we're here." Emmett said with a little laugh, but shot her a look for commenting on my weight. "I'm _starving_."

"Are you really?" Carmen raised an arched eyebrow.

"No. But, I'm pretty hungry." He teased back.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" She looked over at Emmett accusingly switching into Spanish to scold him it seemed.

Her eyes kept darting to me and I wondered if it was a problem that I was here.

"I texted Maria." He said in defense.

Maria held her hands up in surrender, not wanting to get in the middle of this obviously.

It amused me to watch him with his family.

"Well, that's not telling _me_!"

"Yeah, it was a last minute decision." Emmett said, reaching over the counter and grabbing a cigar box and cutting a cigar. "Dad's working late tonight though, right?"

Carmen nodded and didn't argue with this, but she seemed to disapprove of him smoking even though she pulled a box long cedar matches out of her own pocket to hand it to him.

They had a conversation in Spanish as he struck a match to light the cigar and rotate it before taking a drag.

I watched him do this simple task with ritualistic familiarity, absolutely enchanted. There were all sorts of little things he did, making it look like he'd been smoking cigars since he was born. I mean… he was Cuban, and I knew that was stereotypical of him to like cigars, but it was religious the way he did it. I wanted to watch him forever.

There was something about him here that just made him seem so… different. It was like he wasn't camouflaged and I could see the vibrancy of his colors. He'd… revealed himself to me and it took my breath away.

My very core seemed to ache for more of him.

His eyes darted toward me every so often.

I wished I understood what they were saying in Spanish.

"I'll make something for you, Rosaliá, any time mi cariña." She nodded back to the conversation that included me.

"And, you, even though you're _late_ and the kitchen's supposed to be closed." Carmen narrowed her eyes at Emmett, seeming to still be in good humor though.

He spoke some seemingly sweet Spanish to her, hugging her and kissing her cheek and it became apparent he was buttering her up.

"Oh, you smell like a damn cigar. I hate that smell." She smacked him on the arm lightly, but something about this made it seem more serious. "Now, Rosaliá what do you like to eat?"

I started to speak, but Emmett cut me off. He spoke Spanish and she nodded.

He seemed so much more comfortable speaking Spanish than English even though he was perfectly fluent and spoke it beautifully. I hated I couldn't meet him in that subject. I knew _nothing_ about the language.

"Well, Emmett seems to be confident that you'll love my ropa vieja." Carmen said toward me.

"You have to try it." He said with so much happiness on his face I knew I couldn't say no.

I had no idea what that was, but I trusted him and wanted to open myself up to whatever experiences he wanted me to have of this new environment for me.

I trusted him.

"Sure." I shrugged with a little smile.

Emmett grinned, leaning back on the bar to face the dance floor. I watched him smoking and I wanted to inhale him as he exhaled. I had to look away.

I think I wanted him to kiss me…

I wanted to taste that cigar on his lips.

It was torturing me whether he wanted me back. Could he want me back?

"Do you want to try?" He held out the cigar with an amused look on his face.

He'd caught me staring at him.

"I uh…" I kept my arms crossed over my chest, but I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Don't do that. It's disgusting." Maria rolled her eyes. "And you know mom hates when you smoke. It reminds her of…"

Emmett cut her off, switching to Spanish.

I didn't have to understand Spanish to know it must have reminded her of his and Maria's biological father.

Maria eventually gave up, but I saw she was fiery and kept Emmett on his toes.

He kissed her on the cheek, giving up too.

"I'll try it." I included myself in the conversation, trying my boldness and also wanting to be connected to him in this way.

I wanted to show him I was interested in him. I hoped he saw that through me being interested in what he was interested in. That made sense, right?

I felt my face go white as he looked back at me.

"Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow.

No, I wasn't sure about smoking. I'd never even smoked a cigarette before.

I was sure about him though.

I nodded.

"Okay," He smiled, and it had just the effect I wanted it to.

His big brown eyes glistened as he handed it to me. It seemed so awkward in my hand and I was immediately intimidated.

"Don't hold it like a cigarette." He directed, his fingers wrapping around mine to place them.

My heart raced out of my chest at his touch, but he didn't notice.

"He's a cigar snob. Hold it how you want to." Maria rolled her eyes.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I brought it to my lips and inhaled.

Immediately, I started coughing, and the more I tried to stop coughing the more I kept coughing. I was mortified, and I felt my face turning red not only from coughing but from mortal embarrassment.

Emmett was immediately worried about me, and I handed him that death trap right back.

Through coughing my lungs up, I could hear he was laughing wholly and fully. I was even more mortified now at his humor, but I did love hearing him laugh.

"Oh, God, you don't inhale a cigar, Rosalie." He laughed.

"Don't you think you should've told her that first instead of how to hold the damn thing, you pretentious asshole?" Maria laughed just as heartily.

"I'm sorry, Rosalie. Really." Emmett laughed and put his arm around my shoulder for a fleeting moment in an apologetic gesture and if I weren't still coughing my lungs up, I would've melted. "I'm so sorry!"

That was the first time he'd done something like that, just hug me like he was familiar with me, and I would've choked a thousand more times to make it happen again.

"That was fun." I coughed a couple more times, and Emmett laughed again before bringing the cigar that was just on my lips back to his.

"It's a sign I should stop contributing to your delinquency." He smirked in my direction.

I rolled my own eyes in flirtatious teasing.

A man with the same piercing green eyes as Camila approached, wrapping his arms around Maria from behind. He was tall, but not as tall as Emmett and was much lankier. He had dark hair but not raven black - more of a chocolate color, and his button-down shirt was unbuttoned low enough to show a gold chain and olive skin.

"What's going on over here?" He asked excitedly.

Maria turned around, kissing him cheerfully.

"This is my husband Lorenzo." Maria lit up, and I saw she was genuinely happily married.

"You brought a _girl_?! Must be serious." Lorenzo said, pushing on Emmett's shoulder a little in teasing.

My face turned bright red and Maria grabbed Lorenzo's arm, with wide eyes.

"She's obviously gorgeous and has half a brain Enzo, of course she's not here _with_ him." Maria laughed, making light of the situation. "Right?"

Maria raised an eyebrow looking over at Emmett.

I watched Emmett's expression remain unchanged as he brought the cigar back up to his lips. The three of them had a short Spanish conversation.

I wondered what they said.

"Sorry, Rosalie." Lorenzo said, offering his hand. "I don't know what I'm saying half the time."

I swallowed before shaking it, holding my breath at the contact.

He chuckled a little and I gave a slight smile.

I thought about what it meant that Emmett brought me here. Did it mean something _was_ serious? We'd never talked about what existed between us, so I wondered if I was just making it all up in my head…

Emmett smiled over at me easily.

I wasn't just making it up in my head.

I couldn't be.

"So what do you do, Rosalie?" Lorenzo asked.

"I… I'm in fashion." I said very vaguely.

Maria and Lorenzo just nodded.

This made Emmett smirk a little, but he kept looking away.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere before." Lorenzo puzzled.

"I have one of those faces." I said, this time not able to fight the smirk on my own face as my eyes met Emmett's as we shared this little inside joke.

I wasn't _in_ fashion. I _was_ fashion. Lorenzo had 100% seen my face before if he didn't live under a rock.

Emmett turned away, the smoke escaping his lips making me want to kiss them.

I had to look away now, distracted throughout the rest of the conversation.

I learned Lorenzo was a second generation Spaniard – his parents emigrated from Barcelona right before he was born. He and Maria met at a grocery store a few years back and the rest was history. They swore it was love at first tight. It was sweet. Throughout talking with Maria and Enzo, I learned over and over again how much I loved hearing Emmett laugh…

As conversation progressed, I saw how much Emmett seemed to like Lorenzo, but I also saw how close he was with Maria. He seemed intensely protective of her, so him liking and approving of her husband was apparently of utmost importance. Maria also seemed to value Emmett's opinion like gold.

They had a sibling relationship like I'd always wanted.

It made me smile.

I got my wish with Edward I suppose and I wondered what Edward would think of me right now… He had become an older brother of sorts. Would he approve?

He'd been extremely busy with his new engineering job and was usually very stressed out so I hadn't gotten to spend any time with him recently.

I couldn't believe I was thinking about Edward's opinion right now. I rolled my eyes at myself internally.

"Where's Camila?" Lorenzo eventually asked, looking around until he found her with a group of kids playing dolls at a table in the corner.

An old woman with white hair was playing along, laughing with a little girl bouncing on her lap and directing her dolls.

I noticed how intergenerational this place was – like a big family reunion. Everyone was talking and laughing and dancing like everyone knew everybody. It was like everyone was a family.

The walls crackled with energy.

My blonde hair and violet eyes made it obvious that I didn't belong, and a few dark eyes were staring, but I didn't feel like an absolute alien next to Emmett.

That part at least felt natural.

"Camila's getting so big. I think we need another baby around here." Maria finally looked up to Lorenzo with wide, love-filled eyes.

He swung her in his arms and the intimacy of their quick kiss made me have to look away.

I bit my lip at the happiness and simplicity of their love.

"I think it's your turn." Lorenzo seemed to tease Emmett.

"No chance in hell." Emmett seemed to laugh this idea off as he rolled his eyes.

He disposed the cigar behind him, turning to make it obvious he wasn't continuing in this conversation.

Did he not want kids? I mean, I'd never thought about it before. I wasn't exactly really great with kids or really even spent that much time around them; I was just curious as to what he thought of them…

He had seemed to light up at even the sight of Mariana and Camila. He seemed really good with them – very natural.

"Enzo…" Maria seemed to beg, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Why don't we go dance and have this conversation later?" Lorenzo seemed to want to distract her as he twirled her under his arm and pulled her toward the dance floor.

"Oh, but you know where dancing leads?" Maria winked.

"Babies." She mouthed at me before she turned to follow him to the center of the room.

Emmett slapped a hand over his face, scolding her in Spanish it seemed.

But, I laughed – freely.

He smiled at me, his eyes seeming to search over my face as I continued to giggle.

"Are you okay?" He asked, sliding down the bar to stand closer to me.

He leaned back on his elbows as he sat back on a barstool, his eyes on me.

I looked over with a nod, and he smiled.

"I'm sorry about before." He chewed on his bottom lip nervously.

I was distracted, then I realized I had to respond.

"I suppose you can make it up to me." I shrugged, trying to be flirtatious.

"Oh, of course." Emmett agreed, and I smiled in his direction, knowing he felt it now.

I was confident he felt something between us. He sensed it in the air.

My smile faded though as I noticed a woman with long, straight black hair and pouty pink lips wink at Emmett as she took a shot with three other men at the bar.

His eyes were on her now and she fluttered her long black eyelashes over her round, chocolate brown eyes in his direction as she leaned forward on her elbows to accentuate her long waist and perfect hourglass figure in a short red dress.

When she caught me looking at her too, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, turning her back.

I was mortified, my face turning bright scarlet – but I was ultimately unshaken in my pursuit of him. I paid no mind to competition. In a way, it fueled me.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked, seeming to know I'd noticed that girl. "Sorry, I swear I was raised right and have manners. I just…"

"I'm fine, really." I chuckled, noticing a boyish nervousness in his voice.

I hopped up on the barstool next to him and I crossed my right knee over, folding my hands and sitting forward. If I rotated another inch to my left, we'd be touching.

Did I dare?

"So what-" We both started to speak at the same time.

He chuckled and I bit my lip, my eyes darting down.

"You first." He said with a little laugh.

He rotated to his right and my shin made contact with his knee.

I noticed the girl in the red dress had her eyes on Emmett as she led another guy to the dance floor. Her body was liquid, perfectly fluid as it flowed into her partner's. He dipped her so her long black hair was a curtain, falling off her tanned neck before she snaked into him again, kissing him in a way that made me have to look away.

"No, it wasn't important." I turned away, not brave enough.

"Anything you say is important." He insisted, his amber-brown eyes on fire.

He hadn't looked away from my face for a second. This made me feel victorious in a way, but I was also intimidated.

"O-okay." I stuttered with a little smile.

"Emmett, there's something I wanted to ask…" I started, my voice seeming tiny.

My heart raced out of my chest as he kept his eyes on me.

Thankfully, Carmen approached with some delicious looking food.

I exhaled in relief.

What was I thinking asking what he thought about me when that gorgeous woman he obviously had history with was just right there? Ugh, I was so stupid.

My empty stomach jumped for joy as she sat a hot plate in front of me. It was nothing like what I ate normally, so I couldn't help but be a little apprehensive, but the pride on her face and the comfort on Emmett's made me want to try.

"I hope you like it!" Carmen clasped her hands together then proceeded to explain it all to me.

She sat on Emmett's other side and I saw by the look in her eyes as he picked up a fork that she showed her love through her food.

This meant a lot to her.

"What do you think?" Emmett asked right before I even had time to swallow my first bite.

They both waited in anticipation with wide amber-brown eyes.

I chuckled as I held a hand over my mouth to swallow.

"It's so good." I said truthfully.

Emmett and Carmen smiled at each other as if they'd just won a competition.

"¡Excellente! Oh, I'm so glad." Carmen clapped happily as I blushed.

Emmett looked at me like he was _proud of me_ , and I had to look away or I'd get addicted to that way he was looking at me.

What else could I do to get him to look at me like that?

I picked up my fork again, my mind drifting to what I was going to ask him just moments ago – praying he wouldn't remember.

I was going to ask what was going on between us… How stupid could I have been?

He remembered, as we ate, much to my disappointment.

"What were you saying earlier, Rosalie?" He asked me.

I took another bite so I'd have time to think of something on my feet. As I swallowed, something came to me.

"Why is it called the Apple Tree?" I asked.

That was good enough.

Carmen looked over with a beaming smile, but Emmett pursed his lips not seeming to enjoy the story as much as she did.

"Can I tell her?" Carmen asked, leaning forward on her elbows excitedly.

"Sure." Emmett nodded, twirling his fork.

"It's a really good story." Carmen grinned.

"It's really not that interesting of a story as she's making it sound." Emmett chuckled humorlessly as he rolled his eyes.

"Oh hush, so, I'll tell the whole thing – that's what makes it good."

"No, mom." Emmett protested, obviously thinking I was getting an abridged version, and it made me curious.

"So okay okay here's the full story - God love him, but English did _not_ come easily to Em when we got to America." Carmen started, mussing his hair like he was a child.

He seemed to tune her out, because he didn't respond.

I watched his face, seeing something in his eyes but she went on before I could identify it.

"He would spend hours in front of the television trying to repeat the words he heard the news anchors saying even though he didn't understand what they meant." Carmen went on.

Emmett looked up now, slight annoyance in his eyes.

"Just tell the story." He said.

"I am. I am. She just needs some background information." She insisted, seeming to get back on track.

"So… after we'd been in New York for about a month, he had to start school. Maria was crying all night and all that morning so we were both exhausted and running late for his first day."

"She was just three at the time and I was going to drop her off at a daycare on my way to work so I could walk with Em halfway to school, but she had a fever and they wouldn't let her stay at the daycare so I was stressed, but I was still making him go to school."

"He was _not_ happy about that and I swear you'd think I was walking him to his execution the way he trudged along the street that day on the way to the train station." Carmen sighed. "Never in a thousand years would I have imagined that he'd end up at that genius school just two years later."

"Mom…" Emmett looked at her the way most people look at their moms when they're bragging on them and his face turned a light scarlet in embarrassment. "It was a _specialized_ school."

I found his modesty charming and I had to fight my smile. I'd read somewhere he'd gotten into Stuyvesant High School, then went to Princeton, then Harvard and graduated at the top of his class.

"No offense dear, it was just that school just didn't come naturally to you so I just thought…" Carmen shrugged, misreading his expression. "Not that you were stupid or anything…"

"Oh my God." Emmett groaned a laugh, wiping a hand over his face.

I bit my lip now, unable to hide my smile of amusement.

"This is entertaining to you, I presume?" Emmett raised an eyebrow and I nodded with a little chuckle.

"Please, go on." I giggled, and Carmen winked at me.

"He hated hated haaaaaated school so I felt like the worst mother in the world sending him that first day, but he had to go of course. I'd been an English tour guide for a little while in Havana so I was making him practice some basic English phrases on the way and his little skinny knees were knocking he was so nervous. He was so afraid of the teacher and the other kids making fun of his English and –"

" _Mom_." Emmett's eyes shot to her as he tried to get her back on track again this time a little more harshly.

I pushed my lips together, biting down my teeth as I saw the embarrassed look on his face.

"Okay, so he didn't want to go to school," Carmen summarized and got back on track. "But when we got closer to the train station – there was this lady with a produce store on the corner. She held out an apple for him because she saw him with a backpack and knew he was going to school." Carmen ran her hand through his hair lovingly and he shook her off.

I loved seeing him through the lens of her eyes. It was nice to see him as her son.

"He looked at her like she was offering him a million dollars. His sweet face," She tapped his cheek where his dimple would be if he were smiling, and I couldn't help but smile in response.

"See, in… in Cuba…" Carmen began and Emmett's head shot up to look at her.

His eyes danced on her face, and she paused.

"Do you want to tell it?" She asked.

"No, I… I just haven't heard you say anything about Cuba in a long time…" Emmett trailed off, looking down now.

"In Cuba, we lived on a ration system, and you filled out the card and got the month's groceries, so grocery shopping looked very _different_ than it does here, so…"

Emmett looked at her like he couldn't believe what she was saying.

"Em had never even _seen_ an apple before." Carmen kept eye contact with him as she said this as if I were invited into a big secret.

He swallowed, but didn't protest as she went on with the story; he just kept his gaze down from then on.

I wanted to take his hand.

"And he was so _mesmerized_ that people here had enough food that they could _share_ so he equated apples with prosperity." Carmen explained.

Now, he looked up at her and my heart was aching. I couldn't imagine what they'd been through together, but I loved learning about him in a way I couldn't even begin to explain.

"And when I saw the look on his face when he tasted that apple, I started to cry. I knew I'd done the right thing bringing him to America where he had more opportunities, but I still worried you know?" Carmen looked at me like I had infinite wisdom.

Oh, but I didn't possess any wisdom or grace… I felt so small and insignificant, but her gaze assigned me so much worth.

"I mean, I ripped my child out of his _home_ …"

"Mom…" Emmett tried to redirect her softly.

"So, then he told me it was going to be okay because the lady on the corner had apple trees and she could share with us." Carmen said as if this was the 'and they lived happily ever after' part. "That's what really made me realize we could make a home here."

I noticed I was leaning forward with wide eyes as I listened intently.

Emmett's dimples showed and a slight scarlet tinted his cheeks.

I saw so many facets of him in one day and I was in love with them all.

He put his arm around his mother's shoulders kissing her on the cheek and she tapped the dimple on his cheek in a sweet playful gesture.

"Now that you're bored to death." Emmett raised an eyebrow, looking back to me.

"I'm not." I said almost too swiftly.

"At least her belly's full so it'll make for a good nap." Carmen winked in a joke, taking my empty plate from in front of me.

I blushed at how much I'd eaten.

"Let me help you." Emmett stood, reaching for the dishes.

"No, no, no. Rosaliá's your guest. It's her first time here. Show her the place. Take her dancing." Carmen insisted, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before taking his plate too.

My eyes darted out to the dance floor where everyone was dancing and I was intimidated.

I don't think my hips could move like that if I tried.

I knew I was a beautiful girl. I didn't lack any self-confidence in that aspect, but I was just that… I was a _girl_.

These were _women_. They knew their bodies in a way that made me look like an uncoordinated baby giraffe.

I was far too vain to fail at this.

"Thank you _so much_ for dinner." I said, looking back to Carmen. "It was amazing."

"It's my pleasure. Now, I'm going to clean up and I'll see you Sunday morning for Mass, cariña." Carmen kissed my cheek now and I didn't even flinch away.

Progress.

As she turned on her heel, my heart began to race at the thought of dancing with Emmett.

"You don't have to dance, you know." Emmett said, but there was something in his eyes.

And, I think I wanted him to be close to me…

"I just… don't know how." I hated to admit, but I looked up at him in a way I hoped he would read.

"You just need a good partner." Emmett smirked in a confident way.

He read me like a book.

"I know what I'm doing." He said, standing in front of me and offering his hand.

"All right." My skin tingled with anticipation and I had to fight a goofily wide smile from showing on my face at the excitement of thinking about putting my hand in his.

I realized… he _wanted_ to dance with me.


	26. Don't

_Hey everyone! THANK YOU FOR YOUR AWESOME WORDS AND THOUGHTS! Marlene and Guest, this one's dedicated to you! I hope it makes a bright spot in your day half as happy as you've made mine!_

 _It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK! I really want to encourage you to leave reviews for each chapter pleasepleasepleaseplease! I really get discouraged when I don't know your thoughts and it gives me some writer's block sometimes!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one! Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Don't – Elvis Presley_

 _Don't, don't, that's what you say_

 _Each time that I hold you this way_

 _When I feel like this and I want to kiss you_

 _Baby, don't say don't_

 _Don't don't don't don't_

 _Don't, don't leave my embrace_

 _For here in my arms is your place_

 _When the night grows cold and I want to hold you_

 _Baby, don't say don't_

 _Don't don't don't_

 _If you think that this is just a game_

 _I'm playing_

 _If you think that I don't mean_

 _Every word I'm saying_

 _Don't, don't, don't, don't_

 _Don't feel that way_

* * *

 _Rosalie: Fire and Ice_

 _Five Years Ago, January_

In a moment that seemed to last for eternity, my hand was in the air reaching for his.

As my fingers finally touched his, an electric jolt surged through my body and I inhaled as I hopped down from the barstool to stand in front of him.

His eyes were on me and made me strong and weak at the same time.

My knees felt like spaghetti noodles.

Luckily, his hand was strong as he led me forward.

My heartbeat was so loud in my ears that I barely heard the music, but my ears were on the perfect frequency to hear his perfect, velvet voice as he spoke to me as we found our place on the outskirts of the dance floor.

"You were just complaining about not knowing anything about me and now you know too much." Emmett started, looking at me like we were the only two in the room. "You ready to run away now?"

"Not quite." I blushed as he spun me into his arms, taking my left hand in his right and putting his left hand lightly in the center of my back.

I gasped at the feeling of his hand on my body, and though his intention was clearly to stay polite and gentlemanly, I searched his eyes for any sign that he could look at me the way the other men were looking at the women in their arms.

Would he look at me with the desire to inhale me?

I wondered how he'd danced with the girl in the red dress.

I watched her body wave and roll into her partner with such expertise and perfect rhythm, her hips swinging.

Her feet moved like she was on air and she took the hat off her partner's head to put on her own playfully. She was too good at this. Her partner slid his hands up her long, tan legs and she put her hands around his neck with a perfect giggle, showcasing a perfect smile.

The others on the dance floor were all meshed into one body, on one rhythm, and though I felt far from ready for that, there was a part of me that was hungry for that closeness with him.

I was being ripped apart inside.

"So what do you think?" Emmett asked, remaining at a distance from me that would make any Christian high school dance chaperone satisfied.

"Of what?" I asked, seizing the moment to grip his hand a little tighter, bending my elbow a little so I'd be standing closer to him.

"Of what you've learned about me." He pressed into my hand, retaining our distance and seeming to reject my advances.

I was naturally disappointed in our detachment.

"Am I quite as interesting as you imagined?" Emmett's dimples showed and made thinking in clear sentences quite impossible.

"I'll have to get back to you on that." I played coy and luckily he responded to this and I saw something in his eyes I hadn't seen before.

He was enchanted by the idea of a hunt, and I'd just become a more than perfect prey.

It made my heart race as I looked up into his eyes filled with… self-assured delight at my request for pursuit.

"Why's that?" He tested me, his smile turning into a smirk.

Emmett was _flirting_ with me.

"I'm still deciding." I bit my lip, hoping it'd drive him wild.

He looked away from me.

I wasn't as good as I thought.

Granted, I'd never practiced on a _real_ man before, just a camera.

I pursed my lips, twisting them to one side like I did when I was frustrated.

"Now, what's that face for?" He caught me with a chuckle.

"Nothing. I just…" I looked away.

My eyes caught on another couple that was so engrossed in one another, heat and passion between them as they danced in a way that I'd never seen before.

It made me feel like a little girl that didn't understand the world of these adults.

As if he'd finally picked up on my advances, or all it took was my own distraction from him, he vied for my attention.

It made it obvious he wanted the thrill of pursuing me. I longed to give it to him.

I was in a complicated limbo of detachment and playing coy.

My hands relaxed and I dropped my arm and the resistance into his hand slightly.

"You can't give up on me already." He said, referring to dancing of course, but the double meaning was not lost on me.

His fingers spread on my back as he pulled me a little closer to him, willing me to regain my position.

"Okay." I was breathless as I arched my back against his hand, feeling him on my stomach.

His eyes darted over my face. If he tilted his chin down a little more, he could kiss me.

Suddenly, I felt like I couldn't breathe – like I was suffocating and I pushed away from him.

"It's really hot in here." I said lamely, my eyes darting down.

God, I was such a loser.

He already thought I was a baby and here I was unable to handle two seconds of proximity with him without feeling faint.

I wanted the ground to swallow me up.

"It is." He agreed blindly.

I couldn't bear the thought of even glancing back to see the look on his face.

I cursed the day I was born.

I looked around, noticing all the women in skirts, short dresses, tank tops and things that showed off their figures. Everyone was sweating like we were in the tropics. Like we were actually in Old Havana.

They had some kind of heater in here…

I noticed I was in a sweater that came down to my knees – the appropriate attire for dealing with January in New York.

But, we weren't in New York any longer.

We were in Emmett's Cuba.

"Let me get you some water." Emmett mumbled, turning on his heel.

I nodded, keeping my eyes down.

 _God, Rosalie, get it together._

What was wrong with me?

I tugged on the hem of my sweater, nervously tittering as I watched him retreat toward the bar.

I finally mustered enough courage and aversion to the heat to slip my sweater and long sleeve undershirt over my head so I was standing in a black lacy silk lingerie type tank top and black high waisted jeans and chunky heeled boots. I exhaled in relief, feeling like I'd shed a thousand pounds as I hung my sweater on a nearby chair, trying not to notice people staring at me.

I hadn't shown this much skin in two years, or really _ever_ and I was immediately self-conscious.

I knew this tank top wasn't exactly appropriate, but I hadn't exactly planned on anyone seeing it. It was see through a little, lacy and undoubtedly supposed to be worn under something.

But, I did love the way I looked and had no qualms against my body or especially my face – I knew I was beautiful - but I looked like a lanky beanstalk in my youthful frame next to all these women. I maintained that I was beautiful, but these women were _sexy_.

My eyes danced down to my chest, noticing just how flat chested I looked even though I was already seventeen and in a push-up bra. My hips were far from wide and my thighs were far from thick like the women around me. I traced my hands from my waist to my hips imagining a more dramatic hourglass figure…

But, I didn't have one… I was still young…

I clenched my jaw resolutely, refusing to be intimidated on the basis of vanity. I tried to remind myself I was _Rosalie Hale_. I had no reason to be insecure! I was _born_ with confidence.

When I turned around, I almost knocked straight into red dress girl.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, dropping my eyes down without taking the time to wonder why she was so close.

My heart raced.

She spoke Spanish in a molten, velvety voice that perfectly matched her physique that absolutely oozed sex appeal.

It took a second to realize she was talking to _me_.

"I don't speak…" I muttered as my cheeks tinted scarlet.

I looked back up to her with hesitation. Just as I'd anticipated, my eyes felt like they were burning out of my skull as they locked into hers.

Her eyes were a light caramel brown and framed by dark black lashes and perfectly arched thick black brows. Her eyes were fiery and passionate, even as she looked at me conversationally, but even so, her lips stole my focus.

The red dress girl's perfect, pouty, pillowy lips parted ever so slightly in a little laugh and I darted my gaze back up to her eyes to avoid being caught staring at her mouth.

"My name is Pilar." She said in a beautiful accent thicker than Emmett's but seemingly just the same, smiling casually. "You're new."

"I'm Rosalie." I blushed a deeper scarlet, willing my embarrassment not to be so apparent.

"You need some help dancing, baby." Pilar tilted her chin down so the bangs of her long, raven black hair fell into her face a little.

"I… Well…" I started, not truly able to discern whether baby was an insult or an endearment.

"That wasn't a question. That was an observation." Pilar said plainly, brushing her long hair back over her tanned shoulders and wrapping her arm around my back into a dancing position.

"I don't…" I froze, pulling away from her.

"Do you want my help or not?" She was intense as she grabbed me again, and I didn't know how to respond to her personality.

"I… I do."

I gulped, holding my breath as she got close enough I felt her perfect goddess level amazing body on mine. She was shorter than me so she looked up at me a little, but I felt like the opposite because I was shrinking so much under her intense gaze.

"Now you," She directed me with her hands, pushing and pulling on my arms and back.

"No." Pilar corrected and I felt intensely uncoordinated as she directed my feet to tell me which steps to take. "Left."

"Closer to me, baby" She guided. "Now, where are your hips?"

It became obvious she was calling me baby because of my youth and naivety as a way to tease me.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, annoyed before she snaked her body against mine.

I hadn't been this close to anyone. Ever.

"Your turn." She ignored me and my hostility.

"You should try, baby Rose." She grinned at me, looking me up and down.

She was taunting me…

Something competitive and tenacious deep inside me made me try her challenge and I let my body roll and wave and snake with hers.

"Okay. That's a good start." She said.

I smiled a little, pleased with my progress on the dance floor.

"Now, with feeling." She encouraged, seeing my assurance grow as I imagined I could feel the music like she could. "That's better."

I got more confident and I looked straight into her eyes as she put one hand on my hips. I flinched away from her touch, but she didn't mind.

"I'm helping you because you're here with Em." Pilar finally answered my question and guided my hips in a counter-clockwise circle time with the drums.

"I'm um…" I started to protest, and my face flushed scarlet.

"And, I know he likes to dance. It reminds him of home." She cut me off.

I bit my lip, my eyes dropping to my feet as her hips circled into mine.

"What in God's name is going on over here?" I heard Emmett's perfect voice, tainted with slight amusement from over my shoulder.

I dropped Pilar's frame immediately, exhaling with relief as I whirled around to meet his eyes.

I swallowed, seeing he'd also shed a layer, so he stood in front of me in a white undershirt that made his masculine energy inherently obvious and what good shape he was in plain as day.

My imagination wasn't even that good, and I swore I could see the muscles of his sculpted torso with perfect clarity.

He was Herculean in a way that seemed understated and natural, like he just defeated the hydra, the titans, and Cerberus in his spare time, not like he annoyingly obsessed at the gym.

I noticed now that he wore a gold chain and crucifix around his neck, and this distracted me enough to catch his eyes again.

I felt faint as he handed me a glass of water with a little smile.

"You've traded me in for a better dancing partner I see." He grinned in Pilar's direction, a sparkle in his eyes.

I felt a sharp pang of jealousy. The way they looked at each other was absolutely magnetic.

Pilar tossed her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek in a place that barely missed the corner of his mouth.

He put his arm around her shoulder familiarly, ducking his head to speak to her and only her as he kissed her on the cheek.

She giggled happily at something he said in her ear and he tightened his arm around her shoulders before they danced together better than I ever could and laughed some more.

I watched them move as one person, speaking to only one another. The strap of her red dress slipped off her shoulder and she raised it sexily. Their eyes were absolutely on fire, just feeding on each other's intensity.

They were perfect for each other.

She matched him in her vibrancy and energy and they seemed to be two halves of the same whole.

My hand shook angrily as I tilted the glass of water up, and I gulped again and again until before I knew it I'd finished the whole glass.

"I can go get you some more water if you-" he finally noticed me, his brown eyes wide.

He unwound his arm from around Pilar, but she stayed close and latched to his side casually.

"No. I wanna dance." I said breathlessly, feeling like I'd just swallowed an ocean as I sat the glass down behind me.

"Baby Rose needs to show you what she's learned." Pilar smirked and my cheeks turned red.

Pilar spoke Spanish so only he could understand her and she looked up into his eyes as she reached up to let her fingers dance in the dark curls falling at the nape of his neck.

He nodded and looked down at her, saying something only to her before she took his hand, twirled under it and kissed his cheek once again playfully.

"I'll see you again, Baby." Pilar said with a wink before floating off to another dance partner.

I swore the liquid in my belly and the tsunami of jealousy washing over me was going to make me seasick if I took another step, but I couldn't pay any attention to that.

"Now, about that dance?" He said with a flirtatious smirk in my direction and I nodded fervently.

I took his hand and put my hand on his shoulder with urgency because I swore I wouldn't be able to stand up on my own if I kept looking at him like this.

My legs were vibrating they were shaking so much. I hoped he didn't feel me trembling.

Touching him now only intensified how faint I felt though because as he put his hand on my back now, it was just a thin layer of satin that separated his skin from mine.

"You met Pilar." Emmett observed as if it was a lead in.

He waited for me so I knew he expected my response.

He'd returned to our Christian school dance stance and I was disappointed.

There was a part of me that was impatient and _hungry_ …

"She's striking." It was the first thing that tumbled out of my mouth.

I was devastated we were talking about her. I wanted him to think of only me.

"Striking?" Emmett turned the word over and snorted a laugh.

Apparently this was not how he would've described her, but he was amused at my word choice.

"How do you know each other?" I asked.

He stiffened slightly, but not for the reasons I initially anticipated.

"We grew up together in Havana." He said.

"You seem very close." I observed, pressing.

"My family came over to America with hers." Emmett explained, but this still didn't account for all of their undeniable intimacy.

I didn't know what to say.

"I wouldn't be here without her family. They let us on the boat last minute and took us in and helped us out so much to get to New York." He expanded, mumbling now.

I nodded, watching his eyes grow further away.

I panicked, not wanting him to retreat.

"Do you love her?"

He laughed so hard I thought he was going to choke. I waited with a frown. I didn't know why that was so funny.

"Uh, _no_." He came back to me, his eyes glistening with humor. "Not like you mean it at least. She's just a good friend."

"Is she the kind of friend you sleep with though?" I asked pettily before I could stop myself, showcasing my jealousy as clear as day.

"Well… Um… I mean…" He cleared his throat, obviously not anticipating my words.

They _had_ slept together. Maybe they still were. Jealousy washed over me like a tidal wave under which I was surely going to drown.

"She was a very good dance teacher…" I muttered, embarrassed of my boldness that betrayed my feelings for him obviously.

"She said you were a very good student…" Emmett said nervously and I wondered what else she had said to him.

I blushed.

"Did you learn anything useful at least?" Emmett asked, not acknowledging the past, but there was a glimmer of it in his eyes.

"Well, I guess you'll have to wait and see about that." I bit my lip flirtatiously.

This time I knew it worked when he smiled.

"You're a funny girl, Rosalie Hale." He said, and I looked up into his eyes – puzzled.

That was not what I was hoping he'd say in this moment. I was annoyed I think.

"How so?" I asked.

"I don't think I've ever known a girl like you." He said plainly, and I felt his fingers spread across my back.

Would he pull me closer?

He didn't elaborate, but he _did_ pull me closer.

I pushed into him, taking advantage of the closeness.

"You've got to let me lead you know." He requested, looking down on me.

I wanted to kiss him so bad I couldn't stand it.

I clenched my jaw though and nodded, and our eyes stayed locked for a long moment as he lead me through a few steps and finally a spin that landed my body especially close to his.

My sharp inhale didn't go unnoticed, and he seemed to cross an invisible line of morality as our bodies connected for the very first time. I wondered if he could feel my heart racing.

Our lips were just a few inches from meeting, and mine parted a little in anticipation.

I closed my eyes as I felt his hand at the nape of my neck, his fingers in my hair.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, his voice rich as molten chocolate.

I shivered as I nodded, and he showed he noticed with a growling, confident chuckle before I dipped back into his arm, now my lower half bending to press into him.

I inhaled at the feeling, but it was just for a fleeting moment I was upside down, my hair off my neck before he lifted me back up to him, now our faces centimeters apart.

My smile couldn't help but spread.

He pulled away slightly so I couldn't misstep and kiss him but our eyes were tethered to one another's.

"I wonder if I'll ever know what's going on in that head of yours." Emmett mused, brushing my hair out of my face.

I loved this simple gesture. I reveled in it, wanting to replay it forever.

"But you'd want to try?" I asked lightly, a little smile on my own lips as he threaded his right hand under my shoulder to take me into another exhilarating dip in his arms before I snapped back up, face to face with him.

I looked down at my feet, then over to the left, watching the way the dancing had progressed for the other couples.

Pilar had her long, high-heeled left leg hitched around her guy's hip and he dipped her back, leaning forward into her as she arched her back and smiled. Her raven colored hair stuck to the sheen of sweat on her skin sexily. Her partner kissed up her neck, and they might as well be having sex right there.

Another couple's hands were hungry, sliding over each other as the rhythm pulsed through them. Her hips moved counter clockwise into him and she bent over at the waist.

My eyes returned to my feet.

I gulped, refusing to be intimidated. I looked back up to Emmett's eyes.

After an extended period of eye contact as we danced close to one another, he pulled away slightly.

It devastated me.

Was he talking himself out of the electricity between us that was absolutely undeniable? I couldn't allow it.

I tossed my arm around his shoulder, spreading my palm over the back of his neck so he was ducked to look at me. I forced his eyes on me, to see how serious I was.

"Please?" I breathed about nothing in particular, just that I needed his eyes locked in mine and for us to remain hanging on this moment together.

I wanted him to forget about anything that separated us in the real world outside of here.

He gave in to me. But, I was still not expecting it.

I was frozen for a moment that felt like an eternity, feeling my stomach jump to my throat as both of his hands found my hips and he guided my hips in a circle.

I exhaled, relaxing into his hands as he guided my hips forward, backward, wherever he wanted them.

My eyes darted down to my feet.

"No, look at me." He said tilting my chin up with his fingertips.

Then, with one hand on my hip, he wound the other around my shoulders and pressed my back into the circle of his arm so it was like I… like I _belonged to him_.

Now, our bodies moved together.

I heard my heartbeat in my ears, but I tried to focus on the beat of the music as I looked into his eyes, not daring to look anywhere else.

My hips wound in a circle by the command of his fingertips and I started to feel more confident. I snaked into him, my heart racing as our bodies touched.

He smiled, that sparkle returning to his eyes like he was _proud_ of me.

We danced close and I felt him against me. I kept my eyes in his wherever he led me, and it was like we were frozen in time except as I noticed our breathing start to quicken and a light sheen of sweat start to curl and darken the ends of his hair right behind his ears to signal time had indeed passed.

He tossed both of my arms around his shoulders, his eyes locked into mine as we danced and danced and danced. Emmett wound an arm behind me and I dropped my hands, dipping in his arm before spinning back into him.

He ducked his head and I closed my eyes, feeling his breath on my neck.

I shivered, but he didn't retreat as we danced close and he kept his hands on me.

A smile of triumph expanded over my face as we moved together, our breath becoming part of the rhythm of the music.

I wasn't Baby Rose.

Emmett and I danced the night away, our closeness becoming more and more natural before we transported ourselves back to his car so we could head home. I held on to the crook of his arm as we walked, and he didn't protest this time.

I wondered if he'd try to hold my hand.

He didn't.

We laughed and talked freely and I couldn't remember ever feeling the way I felt now as we sat together in the back of his car.

I was tired on the way home and I laid my head on his shoulder as we talked.

He didn't try to fight me.

I thought he'd try to kiss me.

He didn't.

Emmett insisted on walking me to my door and my stomach jumped with anticipation of the end of the night.

Would he try to kiss me now?

I knew with the deepest conviction that I loved him.

Did he know?

My focus faltered and I stopped to look down at my feet as I turned to him outside of my apartment building.

"It's snowing!" Emmett grinned, tilting his chin to the sky like it was enchanting him.

It was magical and beautiful with him, especially because it felt like we'd been transported between two worlds of fire and ice tonight.

He was so enamored by the snow, his eyes sparkling like he'd never seen it before even when I knew this wasn't the case. Emmett's dimples showed as his smile stretched from ear to ear now as he examined the snow as it began to fall.

I couldn't help my own smile from spreading as I watched snowflakes collect in his dark curly hair.

His brown eyes drifted down to meet mine again and I took a deep breath.

I threw my arms around his waist, hugging tight to him.

"Thank you." I mumbled into his chest.

After a moment, he wound his arms around me, holding me close. I closed my eyes and felt the corner of my mouth turn up.

"For what?" He asked, beginning to retreat from our embrace.

I already ached at our departure from one another.

"For tonight." I said, looking up into his eyes and hoping he saw my sincerity.

"Of course." He smiled down on me, brushing my hair out of my face as the snow began to grow heavier.

I took a deep inhale, letting the freezing air burn in my lungs.

He was going to kiss me.

After a moment, though, I realized he wasn't going to try.

"Emmett, would you ever…" I started, my voice shaking slightly, totally opposite of that confident demeanor I'd displayed before.

He stopped, looking at me in anticipation, but I knew he couldn't guess what I was about to say and ruin everything.

"Would you ever look at _me_? _Really_ look at me?" I continued, and my eyes came back up to his.

"I'm looking at you, Rosalie." He said calmly, seemingly confused at the urgency in my eyes.

My heart beat out of my chest, and I watched snowflakes disintegrate as they landed on his shoulders.

I took a slow inhale, preparing my words.

"Look at me, and see me as… see me as _more_." I went on.

His eyes searched my face and I prayed he would know what I meant, and read my mind and not make me have to fumble over any more words.

I hung on this moment in anticipation.

"Oh, Rosalie…" He drew my name out in a light groan like this was bad news.

The oxygen left the room and it felt like the world tilted on its axis as my stomach dropped.

He was saying no to me. He was denying me.

"Emmett, I want you to think about it. We could really give it a go." I let the words tumble out of my mouth, hating the ones that finally came.

Emmett's expression was tragic as I remained open, optimistic… waiting.

"Rosalie, you're off limits." Emmett said as if he was convincing himself, not me.

It was weak, and I could break it.

"Not to you." I pushed, my stomach jumping up and falling down.

He laughed heartily but humorlessly.

Rage flared in my mind and I couldn't stop the outpour of words now.

"I want you to take me seriously. Please." I insisted angrily, and he stopped laughing at me immediately.

"I _am_ taking you seriously. I just don't think you _seriously_ know what you're saying." Emmett said.

"But, I do." I nodded intently, and I hoped he saw that I wasn't backing down in my eyes. "I want to be with you."

He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, and I saw the odd look in his eye. I knew there was a part of him that wanted to stop fighting me. I just had to keep cracking down the other side.

Emmett was being torn apart with the decision. I just had to keep fighting.

"I'm not the guy for you, Rosalie." Emmett nodded, keeping his eyes away from me.

"I want you to be." I insisted strongly, my heart racing.

He exhaled, exasperated.

"Is it because of Pilar?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"What? No. Not at all." He frowned like that was absolutely unimaginable.

"Then _why_?" I was flustered.

"You can do _so much_ better than me." He mumbled.

"I don't want to." I said confidently. "I know I want to be with you."

"Rosalie…" His resolve was growing weaker.

I saw a flash of something in his eyes, then he took my hand; without thought our fingers met in a way that was new and unprecedented and… different.

His fingers laced through mine and the contact of his skin was like fire –all of my nerve endings burning ragingly.

In the deepest part of myself, I wanted him; I was so sure of this and even he couldn't derail my confidence in this.

"I admire and respect you so much, Rosalie." He began, his eyes sad. "You are a confident, incredible woman and one of the most outstanding people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."

I knew there was a 'but' coming and I wished I could just silence him with a kiss. Just one kiss and he'd never let me go.

"You're a hell of a lot more mature than I was at your age, but because of... your _age_ -" Emmett said it like it was taboo, because it was - "I don't think we want the same things right now. I have dated for a while and I want to try and settle down soon."

"Well, that's perfect. I don't ever want anyone but you. Settle down with _me_." I blurted carelessly.

His fingers unlaced from mine and the loss devastated me.

"Rosalie..." He sighed.

"I'm 18 this year and..." I started desperately.

"Rosalie." He repeated in a tone of finality. "I'm not doing that to you."

"What are you talking about?" I was annoyed and devastated.

"I won't take away all the experiences you could've had in your life because you're trying to fit yourself into _my_ life."

"But, I _want_ to fit into your life." I reached out to him again. "I _do_ fit in your life."

He couldn't protest this now.

"Emmett, I'm the girl for you. I know I am." I said confidently.

"Do you?" He asked in a test, then there was a hollow pang in my chest.

"Yes. Because _I love you_!" I said passionately and it was like getting splashed with cold water as soon as I said it.

His eyes snapped to me and I watched his lips part, but I was nervous and words poured from my mouth.

"I know that you think I'm being naive and that I don't know what love is but I will learn for you and I will love you more than anyone else could ever love you. If you take the chance, you will be so in love with me too and you'll never know anything else like it. You may already be falling in love with me but you don't know it yet. Please take that chance. Please." I expanded, saying all I could and presenting my strongest points all at once in wild desperation.

"I love you, Emmett I really do. I love you."

It was silent for a very long time and I felt empty, like I'd just totally poured myself out for him.

I had.

Now I waited...

"You don't know what that means..." He eventually exhaled, looking away from me.

He was dismissing.

"Do _you_?" I asked his earlier question boldly, raising an eyebrow.

He paused for a long moment looking into my eyes and I didn't falter in our eye contact. I would not be intimidated out of this.

"Don't tell me that _I_ don't know what love means when you can't even answer me." My voice was breathy but unflinching, clenching my teeth together at the end of those harsh words.

"Because this... the way I feel... I _hope_ this is what love is because it feels so right and so good. I trust you and I want to be with you. I think of you all the time and I know you have to be thinking of me too. If this isn't love, I don't think I want whatever it really is. I think you love me too." I continued, a tear starting to race down my cheek.

My heart froze as he took my face in his hands for the very first time, memorizing the way the palm of his hand felt on my cheek.

He ran his thumb along my cheekbone to dry my tears as I looked up at him.

I took a shaky breath as he brushed my golden hair behind my ear.

Then, I closed my eyes and tilted my chin up.

"I'm not going to kiss you, Rosalie." He said softly and my eyes snapped open in devastated questioning.

He was serious as he said this, even if he was just convincing himself that he wasn't going to kiss me.

I did an awful job of hiding my pouting lips and furrowing brow as he said this.

"Yet." I said shortly and confidently.

"I'm too old for you, Rosalie." He laughed at my determination and this made me angry how he was making excuses.

"That's ridiculous. Why are you treating me like a baby?" I asked in a shrill squeal that didn't exactly help my point.

"Because you're _seventeen_ years old." Emmett said breathily like he didn't want to be heard.

"That's the legal age of consent in New York. I looked it up." I said.

He ran a hand over his face, groaning lightly in frustration with me for using this against him.

"Rosalie… I'm _too old_ for you." He repeated again, shaking his head.

"Then, what was all this tonight?" I asked, gesturing around. "Surely you saw that I'm _not_ a baby."

"No, you're not." Emmett said shortly, looking away. "But, I'm sorry if I led you on."

"You didn't lead me on!" I argued. "Because you _do_ feel something for me. You do. I _know_ you do."

"Rosalie, it's not about that. It's just, you have so much life to live."

"I want to live it with _you_." I said determinedly.

"Well, I want you to do something for me, Rose." He called me a nickname, so I had to oblige.

That was enchanting.

"I want you to experience your life. I want you to date. I want you to meet a guy at a restaurant or something and he'll try to awkwardly make conversation because he's intimidated by how beautiful you are. Someone like that can teach you what love is and learn _with_ you. I want you to do that for me. We're going to go our separate ways now."

The tortured look on his face made it evident he didn't like what he was saying, but I didn't like it even more.

He brushed his fingers along my hairline to soothe me, but my eyes were slowly consumed by fire.

I jerked away from him, tears pooling in my eyes as an unwanted reaction to my anger.

"No!" I shrieked in a jerking, urgent moment. "No. I don't want that. I can't. How could you ask me to do that?"

"Rosalie..." He said softly trying to calm me down.

" _No!_ I will not let you tell me you don't feel something for me." I panicked. "I know you do. You have to."

I kept my hands by my sides because my arms felt so heavy. My fingers balled into fists as I clenched my jaw, waiting for him to listen to me.

His eyes remained down at his feet.

"Please." I spoke up, my voice sounding weird as I begged. "You can't tell me we're just friends. Tell me you want to be with me just like I want to be with you."

Tears raced down my cheeks and my heart throbbed in my chest.

"I want you to think about what you're asking me to do." He said softly, trying everything.

I nodded because I had, pouting my bottom lip.

"But most importantly, I want you to think about what you're asking of _yourself_. Your life is just beginning."

"I just want my life to be with you." I said, a sob in my voice.

He carefully wiped the tears from my face.

"Rosalie… I want to get married." He protested pathetically, his eyes dark and pained.

"Then, marry _me_." I requested.

I would do it in a heartbeat.

"Rosalie, I can't." Emmett said in a tortured tone keeping his eyes away from me.

"You can't or you won't?" I asked determinedly pushing away from him.

"Rosalie…" He sighed, closing his eyes. "That's ridiculous. You know it is."

"You're a coward!" I shoved on his chest, my eyes wild. "You aren't even going to _look_ at me? Look at me and tell me you honestly don't feel something for me! Tell me!"

"God, Rosalie, I need you to take a hint." He gasped out.

"Why?"

"I'm not good for you and I'm trying to make you walk away while you can." Emmett's voice was low, but his eyes came back to mine fierily.

My heart raced.

"I'm not walking away." I breathed.

"Please find somebody else." He admitted, looking down on me with amber eyes that intimidated me, but I refused to falter.

"No." I refused, standing up to him.

This was obviously not something people did because he looked at me incredulously.

"I am _not_ good for you." He insisted.

"You are _so_ good for me, better for me than anyone in my life has ever been." I told him, my heart racing as I grabbed for his hand. "Please, Emmett?"

"I can't..." He stepped away from me, dropping my hand.

"Why?" I shrieked.

"This won't work between us." He said powerfully.

"Why?! I know we've got what it takes."

"I don't trust myself with you, Rosalie."

"What are you talking about?" I shivered, only partially due to the outside temperature and more to do with the iciness between us.

"I don't want to hurt you. I can't hurt you." He said in a heavy tone.

"You're right you can't. You love me too much." I insisted.

He sighed and looked over at me like he was going to take me in his arms and kiss me.

But, he didn't…

"You won't hurt me. I know you won't." I assured him. "You know that you won't, Emmett. You do."

"Rosalie…"

"Don't walk away from me." I ordered strongly.

His eyes softened as they danced over my face and the silence blew up like a water balloon waiting to pop and soak through us both.

"I don't want to love anyone else but you." I mumbled. "Please don't make me."

He brushed my hair back and let his thumb trace over my cheek bone.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what was between us grow too much to carry as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I relaxed into him, threading my arms under his to wrap around his waist so we were close.

My hands spread and my fingers pressed into his back, holding him like he was going to slip through my fingers.

He was melting in my hands, and I could feel his resolve weakening.

I closed my eyes and I held tight to him before he pulled away just slightly and pressed his lips to my cheek.

I smiled at the feeling of his lips on my skin, but kept my eyes closed in anticipation for a kiss on the lips.

It never came.

As he retracted from me, I felt hollow.

"We can't do this, Rosalie." Emmett said the words that shattered me into a thousand pieces.

"Yes, we can." I said in a shaky voice, almost begging.

"Then, I don't want to." Emmett wasn't looking at me so I knew he was lying.

"Don't lie to me." My voice was breathy, empty. "You swore you'd never lie to me."

"Rosalie…" He sighed, staying distant. "I'm serious. I want you to try and live without me, okay?"

"No. I won't do it." I gasped, panicking. "I won't do it."

He clenched his hands into fists as he stayed aloof and looking away from me.

"I can't do it." I rephrased, but it was still the truth.

Emmett's jawline was harsh as his cold eyes stayed laser focused away from me. His clenched fists shook as he looked down now.

"Rosalie, I can't do this with you." He mumbled, and I knew he was walking away from me. "I don't love you…"

I noticed his eyes were glistening and I lost it. I hated those words, and I wanted them so badly to be lies. They were. I knew it, but tears still spewed from my eyes like water from behind a dam and I reached out for him, grabbing onto his hand.

"Emmett, _please_ don't leave." I begged.

His eyes stayed down at his feet as he pulled his hand out of mine.

"You're breaking my heart." I sniveled. "Don't walk away from me."

He took a deep breath like he was going to say something, but he decided against it and turned away again.

I watched him take a few steps and then pause. I was breathing heavily, seeing my breath materialize in the freezing night air in a mystical cloud of my manifested anticipation that he'd turn back around.

He never did.


	27. Cigarettes and Coffee

_Hey everyone! THAAAAAAAAAAAAANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS!_

 _It keeps me motivated and encouraged to know what you think! I really truly do appreciate your time reading my work and leaving kind words! YOU ROCK! I really want to encourage you to leave reviews for each chapter pleasepleasepleaseplease! I really get discouraged when I don't know your thoughts and it gives me some writer's block sometimes!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one! I was not planning AT ALL to write this chapter this way, but Pilar was just flooding with words and begging to get this opportunity to share her part of the story. She was such a vibrant character in my mind, and I instantly fell in love with her when I least expected it. In many ways, I just wanted to write her as simply an illustration for the antithesis of Rosalie in that one chapter, but then, she just started to become more and more bold and smart and important. So... here is this chapter in Pilar's POV. I know it's different, but I think it really illuminates parts of Emmett that will be helpful to know as the storyline goes back to the present at Vera's. Also, assume they speak to each other in Spanish._

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Cigarettes and Coffee - Otis Redding_

 _But it seemed so natural, darling_  
 _That you and I are here_  
 _Just talking over cigarettes and drinking coffee_

 _And whole my heart cries out_  
 _Love at last I've found you, ooh now_  
 _And honey won't you let me_  
 _Just be my whole life around you_  
 _And while I complete, I complete my whole life would be, yeah_  
 _If you would take things under consideration_  
 _And walk down this hour with me_  
 _And I would love it_

 _People I say it's so early in the morning_  
 _Oh, it's a quarter till three_  
 _We're sittin' here talkin'_  
 _Over cigarettes and drinking coffee, now, lord_  
 _And I'll like to show you, well_  
 _I've known nothing but good old joy_  
 _Since I met you, darling_  
 _Honey since I've met you, baby_

 _I would love to have another drink of coffee, now_  
 _And please, darling, help me smoke this one more cigarette_

* * *

 _Pilar: Back to Bed_

 _Five Years Ago; The Morning of Mardi Gras_

His fingers traced my hairline absentmindedly as he brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips with his free hand.

His deep brown eyes stared straight ahead, looking thousands of miles away from where my head laid on his chest. He was far from here right now.

A few silent minutes passed, and I wondered where he'd gone.

His chest rose and fell evenly as I turned to look toward the ceiling and his fingers stopped moving through my hair. Usually this moment was full of laughter or sparkling conversation. On rare occasions I cried and sometimes he poured himself out for me, but we always were in the same place. We were connected in an extraterrestrial way, unexplainable by any normal standard. He was more than my best friend. He was _me_. I was _him_.

Sometimes I thought about him consuming me and I consuming him so we morphed into one person, indistinguishable and absolutely merged. Most times when we had sex, or when I laughed with him, or when I looked into his eyes after he told me a secret only I knew, that's what it felt like.

Right now though, he had never been further from me.

As he handed me the bottle, he sat up with his back to me and pulled on his pants.

He stood from the bed, starting on his belt buckle wordlessly.

I took a generous drink of liquid courage, but it wasn't like I really needed any. He didn't make me nervous; no men did, but especially him; he is more myself than I am.

I knew him inside and out so I knew with confidence that right now, he was upset.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I started, crawling to my knees on the edge of the bed, rubbing my hands down his back.

Em turned to look at me with those open, expressive eyes that I could read as easily as I could read my own name. I'd been reading them since we were kids.

He tried to distract me with a kiss. He wasn't in it so I didn't want it.

Em's head tilted down, realizing I was rejecting his kiss, but he didn't pull away.

"Hey. Talk to me. What's on your mind?" I asked more sternly this time, taking his face in my hands.

"Nothing." He lied to me, shrugging out of my grip.

"You know better than to lie to me." I narrowed my eyes.

He looked over my naked body with an odd emotion in his eyes - the body he knew and knew well. He navigated me like I was as familiar as home.

I didn't shy away from his eyes. I never had. But, I saw something in them that made me shiver.

He noticed, and looked away from me.

"Come back to bed, Em." I started on his belt buckle and he let me undress him to come back to bed as I'd requested.

I sat up against the headboard, opening my arms and legs so he could settle in them.

He was silent as he climbed back into bed with me and laid his head on my chest. I played with his hair, running my hands through those familiar curls over and over and over.

I felt him relax into my arms, but not fully. He was like a nightmare ridden child again and I wondered what horrors were flashing through his mind right now.

I remembered with perfect clarity the first time I'd held him like this.

He was 13 and I was 17. In our seventh or eighth night at sea, the wind had howled hard and the spray of the ocean splashed our faces with such force that it felt like a cracking slap - a harsh punishment for abandoning Mother Cuba. Screams echoed through the blackest night I'd ever experienced and I swore that it was never going to end.

I couldn't see anything in front of me, but I felt a hand in mine and gripped onto it for dear life. Since my mother had died when I was just four, I had never been the kind of girl to cry, but as the angry ocean raged and I felt like I was going to be swallowed whole, I was in tears.

The hand in mine turned into arms around my shoulders that held on to me through the rain and the vengeful sea. After the storm, no one spoke a word. It was a night of unbreakable silence until sunrise when I could see Em was the one who'd kept his arms around me tightly like a shelter. It was in the calm after the storm that Em finally exhaled. He looked at me and instinctually I told him it was okay.

He nodded, then tucked his head down into my chest and started sobbing uncontrollably. He curled up in my lap and I brushed my hands over his hair again and again as the sea rocked us to sleep.

When we woke up, we saw America for the very first time.

Presently, Em still didn't say anything, much like that day what seemed like centuries ago. His silence though was never empty.

His silence was heavy.

I knew that with all the roughness in his life, he really ached for the tenderness only a woman could provide. I gladly provided this to him, but I felt him suffering under my fingertips as I brushed through his hair.

I felt him inhale deeply to signal he'd mustered up the courage to say something.

"Would you ever want to get married?" He finally asked under his breath.

"Em, you know I'm never getting married. I don't believe in the institution." I said easily. "But, if I did it'd be a much older man with lots of money so he could die and I could get it all."

I added the joke to keep things light, but I hated myself for it afterward. I watched, but there was no hint of a smile in his eyes or amusement on his mouth.

He didn't immediately respond, so I wondered why he'd asked me that and I worried about my chosen response.

"Did you mean _to you_?" I asked, hating the shock in my voice.

He was the _last_ person on earth that I pictured married, and that was _including_ me. He was always very open about not wanting to get married. Even though he was just four years younger than me, he absolutely radiated with the naivety of youth in some moments.

He was a child in the springtime of life and I was a thousand year old fixture of nature.

This was our only difference.

"Yeah, I guess I did." He mumbled, noticing the inflection in my voice.

"You don't want to marry me." I responded.

He didn't say anything but he knew it was true.

"You're not in love with me." I told him, but he already knew that.

"You're not in love with me either." He mumbled back to complete the symmetry.

"No, but I do love you more than anything in this world, Em and I _know_ you. I know you because I _am_ you." I said, kissing his hair.

He sighed.

"What's wrong with us then?" He asked this funny question, pulling away and staring strongly into my eyes.

His eyes had dark circles in them and he was a little drunk so it enhanced the sadness in those amber flecks in his brown irises.

He ached…

"Em, hear me out okay? I _know_ you so I know you only have sex with me when you're _really_ happy or _really_ stressed or _really_ sad, or _really_ anything."

"That's not true." He furrowed his brow.

"Or when _I'm_ really happy or really stressed or really sad or… And, I'm fine with that. I am."

Emmett didn't say anything. Surely he saw that was true.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He finally mumbled, keeping his eyes away from me.

"Because we only do this because we need each other." I said.

"I do need you." He said, kissing my neck.

I knew he was just trying to divert my attention.

"You only have sex with me to remind you of home, and I only have sex with you to feel safe."

"Really?" He narrowed his eyes, something naughty in them. "And here I thought it was just because you liked that one thing where…"

"Would you stop and be serious for five seconds?" I pushed on his chest lightly, but enough to let him know I wasn't kidding. "I'm trying to talk to you about something important."

He sighed taking his hands off of me and giving up.

"Em, I think sometimes we only do this to remind us that what we went through together really happened." I finally admitted.

At this, he tensed up.

"Stop trying to psychoanalyze this." He rolled his eyes. "It'll only depress you."

"I'm not." I said. "I'm just trying to say we have to stop doing this."

"What? No." He protested, his hands coming to my face.

"Yes. We have to stop." I said, looking away from him now because I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.

"The only reason you keep me close is because you're afraid that if you lose your connection to me, you'll lose your connection to Cuba. You're afraid that what you went through wasn't _real."_ I admitted.

At this, he turned away from me clenching his jaw in what appeared as anger, but I knew it was just his defenses.

"We're getting older Em, and listen… we're forgetting the little details about the houses we grew up in, the way the white sand felt under our feet, all that's different and special about a Cuban sunrise, the…."

"I haven't forgotten _any_ of it." He said shortly, cutting me off.

He was defensive.

"I was going to say that it's okay… It doesn't mean it wasn't real. It really happened. It all _really_ happened, but it's okay to move on.."

He didn't say a word, and I knew I'd angered him.

"What we're doing isn't healthy and I'm going to stop enabling you." I said.

"Why are you doing this to me?" He asked, like an addict at an intervention.

"Do you remember our terms?" I raised an eyebrow. "We swore we'd stop when one of us fell in love."

Em nodded, remembering that we both thought that day would never come. It was the summer before he left for college and I left to live in Miami.

We'd laughed while we shook hands on the deal then climbed into bed with each other that very first time. We never got _out_ of bed that summer once we climbed into it, and it was the best summer of my life, but the day before I moved to Miami my father died and there was no one else to take over his restaurant but me.

Em bought it from me a couple years ago so I could finally move to Miami like I'd always dreamed, but… _something_ kept me here.

I wasn't just coming to the realization that we only had sex because we needed each other. It was something I'd thought about a million times because I knew it was the reason I couldn't move away.

He reminded me that everything that happened to us… _was real_.

He was the only thing resembling a family that I had left. We were codependent, like two wheels on a bicycle.

"Well, you're in love." I told him.

" _No_ , I'm not." He denied fervently.

He didn't know he was lying. He didn't know he was lovesick.

"Don't argue with me." I warned.

He huffed, turning away from me.

"So are you just trying to tell me you're done with me? That was the last time?" He asked, throwing his arms around my shoulders to kiss me.

I giggled against his lips, but knew he was just trying to distract me.

"Yes. But, if things don't work out with you and Baby Rose, let me know." I laughed and he immediately let me go.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, his eyes wide and obviously spooked.

"Read. My. Lips. You're in love with that girl." I said intently.

He shook his head passionately.

"And she's in love with you too." I assumed.

"That's ridiculous." He protested, pushing away from me.

I watched him panic over this, but noticed hope that what I was saying was true flash across his eyes like a shooting star.

"Em, you're in _love_ with her." I said again, though this time, I irrationally started grinning.

"Why are you smiling like that?" He asked, taken aback, but I saw the dimples on his own cheeks in response, even though he fought against them.

"I don't know…." I couldn't stop smiling. "I think I'm just so happy for you. You're in _love_ with someone!"

I tossed my arms around his shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"No way. I'm too old for her, P." He argued.

"Shut your mouth." I said, pulling away to look at him. "That is the dumbest excuse I have ever heard. You have to know how stupid that sounds."

"She's _seventeen_ years old." Em widened his eyes and hissed like he didn't want to be heard.

"You were seventeen when you got into bed with me." I raised an eyebrow.

"That's _entirely_ different." He rolled his eyes.

"No. It isn't." I argued. "Are you telling me that wasn't a conscious decision?"

"No, but I was an idiot at seventeen."

"You're _still_ an idiot." I pressed. "But, she's not the child you make her out to be, Em. She is a fully formed, intelligent, thoughtful adult. She knows what she's getting into."

"Then why do you call her Baby?" Em used my own words against me, already smug with victory.

I wasn't intimidated or thrown off.

"Because she is naive enough to look at you the way she does." I said. "She looks at you like you're some kind of… some kind of god or something - like you've never done anything wrong, like you never _could_ do anything wrong. She has so much faith in you it astounds me. It's like… like when I held your sister's baby that first time. Camila looked at me like I just hung the moon and stars. I watched you together and that's the way Rosalie looked at you - like you hung the stars. _That's_ why I call her Baby Rose."

"She doesn't know me." Em mumbled, turning away from me darkly.

"That's what you're really afraid of though aren't you?" I observed breathily, as it came to me like an epiphany.

He kept his head down, but snorted like I was wrong even though I knew I was right.

"You're just really afraid of someone knowing who you are. That's why you won't be with her." I observed. "But Em, you've seen she's worth that risk and that terrifies you."

"Stop picking through my brain like you know what's going on in it." He snapped at me.

I didn't back down from his harshness. It just made me fight him harder.

"But, you introduced her to your mom, and your sister, and Peter, and… and _me_." I thought it was appropriate to consider me on the level of family.

"That doesn't mean anything." He fired back.

"I'm not letting you ruin this." I said sharply.

Em didn't say anything, but something in his eyes softened at my sharpness.

"I already did." He mumbled under his breath. "She's already moved on."

I rolled my eyes.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I think I've ever heard." I snorted. "She couldn't move on."

"But, she did." He said intently, like he'd been keeping up with what she was doing this past month. "I told her I didn't love her, so she moved on."

"You _lied_ to her." I gasped. "You have to tell her you lied."

"No. It's for the best." He shrugged.

"That's not true. You've been miserable this whole month. That's not _for the best_." I said, suddenly it all made sense the way he'd been acting this past month.

He was heartbroken.

"No, I haven't." He argued, panicking on what I'd observed of him.

"Yes, you have." I nodded. "You _have_ to tell her. She'll drop the other guy so fast he…"

"I can't just… _be_ with her, P." He tossed his hands up in exasperation, cutting me off. "It's all just too complicated."

"What's complicated about being with someone you love?" I asked, folding my arms.

He narrowed his eyes, huffing.

"Nothing. Nothing is complicated about that." I shrugged.

"Her father would actually castrate me."

I laughed out loud.

"You're scared of her _father_?" I raised an eyebrow. "I swear these excuses keep getting dumber and dumber."

"Well, no." Em furrowed his brow. "But, he… he considers me a friend and he wouldn't like…"

"I'm going to stop you right there." I held up my hands to silence him. "You could come up with a billion excuses and I wouldn't want to hear any of them."

"Some friend you are." He said in a snarky tone.

"I'm just being honest, Em, because I know you and I know what you do for people you love." I said, taking his face in my hands.

I kissed him, knowing it was going to be the very last time I kissed him, so I made it good. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders like a shelter, as he'd done all those years ago to shield me from the storm.

But then, he pulled away from me, kissing me on the forehead. I could see it in his eyes that he knew that was our last kiss. We both smiled because we were both satisfied with that. He was going to be happy, and who knows, maybe this would buy me the freedom to be happy too. Maybe now, I'd move to Miami. Maybe now, someone could fall in love with me, and maybe now I could fall in love with them too.

"Because mark my words Em, if you love her, nothing could stop you from being with her." I said strongly.


	28. House of the Rising Sun

_Hey everyone! THAAAAAAAAAAAAANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS!_

 _It really makes me sad not to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one! NOTE THE DATE STAMPPPPPPPPP ;)_

 _Also note the date Emmett mentions in chapter 18 ;)_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some sneaking around and a chapter about them being newly married and some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 ** _House of the Rising Sun - The Animals_**

 _Oh mother tell your children_

 _Not to do what I have done_

 _Spend your lives in sin and misery_

 _In the House of the Rising Sun_

 _Well, I got one foot on the platform_

 _The other foot on the train_

 _I'm goin' back to New Orleans_

 _To wear that ball and chain_

 _Well, there is a house in New Orleans_

 _They call the Rising Sun_

 _And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy_

 _And God I know I'm one_

* * *

 _ **Alice: Knick Knack Sazerac**_

 _Five Years Ago; Mardi Gras_

My heart beat out of my chest as I looked around my fiancé's restaurant, _Rising Sun_ , in awe and anticipation of opening day.

"Jasper!" I squealed, my hands coming to clasp under my chin excitedly. "There are so many people here!"

His amber eyes met mine and a smile spread across his face that truly and fully touched his eyes. As stressful as it was for him to turn his back on the security of his accounting job, I knew opening this restaurant would truly fuel his soul.

The atmosphere charged me. It was an absolutely gorgeous building refurbished to its 1920s glory and decorated in French style opulence with black and white photos of old New Orleans decorating the walls.

I'd only visited New Orleans once, but the French Quarter essence was captured as perfectly as I remembered it. Energetic jazz music wove through the air to transport me.

A passerby strung beads around my neck and I smiled, letting my eyes scan over the crowd until I focused on the canary on the stage, crooning and swaying her hips in front of an old fashioned microphone. She had beautiful chocolate colored skin, and short hair accented with a headband and a broach as the perfect accessory to her flapper dress.

She looked like she'd just stepped out of the era as she stood centerstage, cupping the mic. She smiled at the pianist and he winked as he played a complicated run of the keys.

My eyes danced to the door where flashes lit up like bursts of twinkling stars.

There she was! Just like she'd promised.

"There's Rosalie Hale! I told you I'd get her here." I grinned over to Jasper and his friends, seeing people titter and even more people begin to line up outside, some paparazzi trying to lean around the doorman.

Jasper and his friends didn't need to be told where to look because everyone was already looking at her.

Rosalie walked through the door wearing a deep emerald green, velvet Prada mini-dress with spaghetti straps that fit to her body like liquid. Her perfect hourglass figure was intimidating and a little hard to believe was totally natural.

Though she did have an impeccable gene pool.

She was in flawless shape always, but she'd just had Fashion Week and a Calvin Klein underwear campaign where she bared almost all of herself for Times Square, and a diamond campaign that launched yesterday where she absolutely broke the internet for posing nude, so she was in absolutely _peak_ shape.

I couldn't believe it when I saw it, but there was Rosalie Hale lying with her perfect body dripping wet, her arm draped over her own breast, a diamond bracelet on her wrist and a sexy pout on her lips.

She had a diamond necklace hanging from her mouth and she pulled on the 10 million dollar chain with her free hand. It made it look pretty S&M and I didn't even have that dirty of an imagination...

But more than all that, the photo shoot proved she was moving from girl to woman and was making the jump _fast_.

In the last month, she'd taken jobs I _never_ thought she would've taken before…

Rosalie had gotten a reputation these past few years for being a little…

 _Prudish_.

Of course, the fellow woman in me could do nothing but support her whatever she chose to do with her body, but the fashion and social commentator in me had to wonder what clicked for her to totally 180 her entire brand image in just a month.

The world was talking about her, and she knew it. Honestly the momentum of this past month made me think she wouldn't even bother showing up at a small restaurant opening.

But…. _Here she was_!

Her fame was skyrocketing and everyone would be talking about the new restaurant she'd attended. They'd ask what she ate and want to do a feature… I could squeal I was so excited!

Rosalie got stopped by a fashion photographer I recognized from a few shoots at Vogue and he kissed her on both cheeks before a man rounded the corner and draped his arm around her like he was… Like he was _here with her_ …

My jaw was on the floor

I immediately recognized him as 13 Mob, a rapper from the Bronx that had just absolutely blown up the past six months. His real name was Rakim Spellman and Rosalie had been seen with him and photographed with him a few times this past month leaving restaurants and going to parties.

Rumor had it they were romantically involved.

He was new money, and had diamonds dripping off of him to show it. He wore a smart, whimsical outfit and his fashion sense made me realize I was going to like him. He had on a grey, relaxed scoop neck tee, a long leopard print denim jacket, ripped black sagging jeans, and the newest, brightest, boldest Nike kicks. Gucci, Saint Laurent, and Balenciaga is what I'd guess he was in.

GQ ran a feature on him online last week. He was becoming a _big_ deal, and obviously being seen with Rosalie Hale was the best thing to ever happen to his mainstream career.

I wasn't really in to hip hop or rap, but Rakim's music recalled the old school rap of the 80s and 90s while also finding a way to make it new and fresh so I appreciated the art of it. He was really an artist, and I thought maybe in ten years or so if he kept up his career, he'd be a creative director for a fashion house.

Maybe that was the connection to Rosalie and he wanted to get into the fashion world.

I was actively trying to figure out what brought them together in the first place because they did not seem like a couple that would naturally find each other.

Rosalie didn't date _anyone_ especially not after what happened to her, so I guess I didn't really know if she had a type.

We'd never really talked about guys before, but I guess in my perception she seemed more likely to gravitate to Wall Street than the Bronx.

I mean… her personal brand was the serious good girl, Victorian and modest, and _uptight_ … She wasn't exactly the poster child of hip-hop culture.

But, in that velvet dress showing off curves I didn't know she had before all this and with her long blonde hair down and straightened down to her tailbone, she looked like a different person entirely so I guess I really didn't know.

I felt so out of the loop. She hadn't even mentioned to me she was hanging out or talking to anyone or dating or anything. She was also acting so odd and changing her brand completely. I was thrown off for sure, so I couldn't wait to sit and talk with her and see what was on her mind, but I was just so thankful she was here.

I realized she'd also brought with her, Heidi Volterra, the social media influencer and YouTube star. Heidi had just taken a few pictures and seemed to be editing and posting as she ducked her head.

God bless Rosalie Hale.

This would be amazing free press for this restaurant.

I skittered to meet her halfway because I couldn't wait anymore. At 5'9" and in five-inch heels, I had to stand on my tiptoes to throw my arms around her. The Alexander McQueen platform booties I had on did very little to assist my own tiny height.

"You came!" I practically screamed in happiness as I squeezed her tight.

"I told you I would!" Rosalie laughed a tinkling laugh before I let her go and she introduced Heidi briefly.

"And…" I pressed impatiently.

"This is Rakim." Rosalie smiled nervously and he excitedly clapped his hands over mine.

He had gold and diamond rings on every finger, so his huge hands felt even heavier to me.

"Alice! Great to meet you. Great to meet you." His raspy voice and thick Bronx accent were harsh but his smile was childish and warm to soften its delivery in his blackish brown eyes. "Rose's told me so many things about you."

He was charismatic in a laid back, easy way. I relaxed, seeing in his smile why Rosalie would like him.

"Hopefully good things!" I chuckled.

"Mostly." He winked in my direction before tossing an arm around Rosalie.

I shot her a look. She didn't acknowledge it.

"Laissez les bons temps rouler!" Rosalie said to inaugurate the evening and to distract me I suppose.

Her French was stunningly beautiful of course and I grinned at the Mardi Gras festive spirit she had. I'd never celebrated Mardi Gras, but this was a perfect way to introduce me. It seemed like such a fun holiday, and I knew it reminded Jasper of home.

At his own restaurant, he could really do it right.

"So what do you think?" I asked in anticipation, knowing it was premature, but Heidi was busy editing a photo for her social media and I wanted to know she was saying something good about the restaurant.

"This is amazing!" Heidi said swiftly. "Def a new hangout spot!"

"I'm digging the vibe. It's really cool." Rakim grinned.

"People are going to love it, Alice, don't worry." Rosalie said assuredly.

"Oh Rosalie…" I couldn't help getting emotional as I took her hands.

"Alice! Stop freaking out." She said, raising an eyebrow and chuckling a little. "It's great."

"Oh it's just this has been a hard time for us... For me…" I whispered to her privately.

She just looked at me with open, violet eyes.

"Right as Jasper and I get ready to get married, he goes and turns our whole world upside down. He invested every last penny in this place. I know he'll be happier doing what he actually loves, and I believe in him and I believe in this idea, but it's just such a big chance to take when we're _planning_ _a wedding_." I spilled my guts.

I knew Rosalie was young, but she looked at me with sympathy even if she couldn't understand or give any sage advice.

"You're Alice and Jasper. You can make it through anything." She said simply.

Those simple words were enough though, and I smiled up to her with graciousness. The corner of her perfect mouth turned up.

"Now, I want to formally meet this mysterious Jasper!" Rosalie said with narrowed eyes and a smirk.

I rolled my eyes knowing we were all too busy to ever hang out together, but thankful that we could all meet under such exciting circumstances. I had known Rosalie for almost two years and she'd never met the Jasper I talked so often about.

"Well, come on!" I said, taking her hand and snaking back through the crowd to where we stood before.

Jasper and his friends weren't there, so I assumed they'd gone ahead and moved up to the loft overlooking the dance floor and where we were now. I explained to Rosalie, Rakim, and Heidi that there was a bar up there and a table Jasper had waiting for us.

The jazz music was humming through my ears and vibrating through my body, and I watched the occupants of the dance floor moving in a sultry yet light-hearted way as we climbed the stairs above them.

Jasper waved to us as we finished the last few steps and I noticed Rosalie's hand tensed in mine and it was almost like I was pulling her behind me like a child scared to go on a rollercoaster.

My eyes glanced back to her and I saw that her cheeks were a faint scarlet and her eyes were down at her feet. Never once in all the years I'd known her had she ever looked gangly and awkward… Until now.

She definitely wasn't the bombshell Rosalie Hale persona she'd put on this past month.

I almost laughed and said something about the way she looked like a baby giraffe, but something about the way she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lip made me not want to tease her about it.

"This is Rosalie Hale." I started, trying to make sense of the weirdness but also calm it down and make her more comfortable. "I told you she'd come!"

Jasper extended his hand to shake hers excitedly.

"I wouldn't miss it." Rosalie said, looking straight into Jasper's eyes with intention.

I noticed a little vibration in her voice as she shook his hand and Rakim and Heidi introduced themselves with pleasantries.

Why was she acting so weird around Jasper? I'd never known Jasper to be intimidating to anyone. He was extremely charismatic and easy to be around.

"Well, I know we certainly appreciate y'all being here for the opening!" Jasper said, bringing a beer to his lips.

"This is –" Jasper began to introduce his companion, but got cut off.

"Oh, we know each other very well." Emmett McCarty said with a smirk, seeming to fight for Rosalie's eyes.

They worked together, but Jasper lived under a pop culture rock, and had his head buried under restaurant stuff so there was no way he would've known that Emmett was Rosalie's attorney a couple years back.

I thought Rosalie was reticent right now because Emmett was friends with her father and that meant he was watching her with her new boyfriend and would get a full report.

Her father, fashion mogul, Robert Hale had hired Emmett McCarty because he'd never lost a case – and he had absolutely no questions asked won hers.

But, he hadn't just won it – rumor has it Emmett had argued Rosalie's case so intensely in the courtroom that it changed judicial theory forever.

He'd also taken her case so seriously that he wrote, lobbied, and pushed legislation that would really change the legal landscape and treatment of cases like hers for the entire country.

In the months following the trial, Emmett got a feature in the New York Times and they talked about Rosalie's case and how he'd so ruthlessly fought for her in the courtroom and out of it. Because of how personally – or so it seemed - that he took what happened to Rosalie, he'd become sort of a feminist champion of sorts himself as he fought for her and people like her. He'd been on about a million news stations and talk shows for it and the entire world had fallen in love with him.

In some ways, he was almost as famous as Rosalie.

Just a month ago, he and Rosalie appeared at the Women's March together and they seemed like good friends on camera.

After her trial, _I'd_ gotten the interview with Rosalie that _everyone_ wanted. Out of all the big news stations on TV and in print, Rosalie had chosen to give VOGUE online the exclusive, and she had requested no one else but me to interview her.

I'd thought it was dumb luck, coincidence, or just fate on my side that I'd gotten the biggest interview of my life with _Rosalie Hale_ and covering one of the most pressing issues and current events of today - that had a little to do with fashion just because of the subjects of the case, but mostly was just hard, real news.

I thought I'd been randomly picked, but I'd bet my life that Emmett recommended she talk to me. He planned it because he knew me, and because he was protecting Rosalie knowing I wouldn't badger her or manipulate her.

She looked up at him now, and her vast violet eyes danced over his face like she knew it as well as a favorite song that she was repeating with gratification.

Then her eyes darted to the floor again.

Now in the swift moment she let her eyes stay on him I knew why she was acting so odd and why she had opted to keep her eyes down in the first place.

There was something agonizing between them that _wasn't_ accounted for in the professional relationship I'd thought they'd just had. When she looked at him, she seemed to ache.

This ache was the kind of ache you felt only by looking at someone that had once occupied that special piece of your heart. She looked at him like he was someone she used to know.

Over the past year, any time they'd appeared together they seemed like friends or at least friendly acquaintances…

Now, it seemed to torture them to breathe the same air.

"Really?!" Jasper seemed excited by the idea that they knew each other.

Rosalie nodded just slightly, swallowing a lump in her throat like a nervous schoolgirl as she looked over at Emmett, still making no advance toward any more pleasantries or conversation.

"I worked for her father." Emmett said in a mumble.

Rosalie's eyes were vast and heartbroken as she looked away from him, the emotion in her pouted lips and clenched jaw showing that he was grossly understating their history.

I seemed to be the only other person aware that there was awkwardness in the room as some introductory small talk took place.

Rakim and Heidi immediately jumped into conversation, both of them extroverted and charismatic.

Heidi had her eyes set on Emmett in a predatory way, and it wouldn't surprise me if they went home together.

She was stunningly beautiful and that was his type: drop dead gorgeous.

The people chatted easily except Rosalie and Emmett never addressed one another. It was obvious to me something was going on, but not a single soul seemed to be the wiser.

"You know, It's been a while, Rosalie Hale." Emmett finally said straight to her, enunciating her name like it was the first time he'd ever said it and was enjoying the way it sounded.

Rosalie nodded, ducking her head and tucking her hair behind her ear again anxiously. She crossed her arms over her chest, making it obvious in her body language that she was uneasy.

I winced. I wasn't used to seeing her like this.

"How are you?" Emmett asked, his voice stiff and tight.

"Fine," She breathed, looking straight into his eyes like she'd been hypnotized.

He seemed to defiantly hold her gaze, his jaw clenched.

This was painful.

"What a small world." Jasper inserted himself into the thick, awkward atmosphere they'd generated and began to redirect. "I swear, New York is not really as big a town as people think!"

"I'll say." Emmett said, leaning back on the rail of the loft, stretching his arm behind Rosalie's back.

She didn't react positively to this, and turned from him, craning her neck away.

"You look nice, Rosalie." He said in what would go down in history as the world's biggest understatement.

I noticed he looked nervous as he ran a hand through his hair and darted his eyes away from her. No way.

"Thanks." She mumbled, keeping her eyes down and tucking her hair behind her ears anxiously.

At this, Rakim put his arm around her possessively. He sensed something was fishy now like I did.

"Would y'all want a drink?" Jasper finally offered. "I've gotta say I've perfected the Sazerac."

Rosalie opened her mouth with thankfulness in her eyes.

"She's 17." Emmett said swiftly over her resounding, 'yes, please.'

"Oh…" I said, my voice a little too high-pitched.

I remembered she was young, but not _that_ young. I figured we'd have to slip her something give or take a year or so from being legal, but she was still a _teenager_.

Rosalie narrowed her eyes now, purposefully turning away from Emmett as he took a sip of his own Sazerac.

Rakim laughed at her pouting.

"I'll take you up on one." Heidi said with eager pep, and Rakim agreed.

"Coming right up. Do you want anything, Alice?" He asked, before kissing my cheek.

"I'll have a Vieux Carré." I said. "That's New Orleans enough right?"

"It passes." Jasper laughed, kissing me on the lips now. "Y'all can head on back and sit down and get comfortable."

"Follow me." Emmett gestured, while Rosalie seethed coldly next to him.

She crossed her arms over her chest, ducking her head to make it obvious she wasn't up for conversation with him.

"Can we talk?" He seemed to beg.

"I don't want to see you." I heard her mumble to him as I followed close behind.

"Rosalie… Please."


	29. Drive You Mad

_Hey everyone! THAAAAAAAAAAAAANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS!_

 _It really makes me sad not to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one! It's a long one to make up for how I made you wait. I've been traveling and I got tons of writing inspiration._

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some sneaking around and a chapter about them being newly married and some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 ** _Drive You Mad - Amy Shark_**

 _Running away_

 _Oh, I felt like this yesterday_

 _And if there's a problem, you'd want to know_

 _Who's in my shadow_

 _Even though you say you won't lie down_

 _I'll ask every night to wear you out_

 _Make me believe one day_

 _I'll be great_

 _Keep me in your heart for old times' sake_

 _I need love_

 _I'm enough, I'm enough_

 _I'm enough to drive you mad_

 _Sleep on the grass_

 _You take my hand, I take you way too fast_

 _You said you feel like there's nothing you can't say_

 _And I felt that yesterday_

* * *

 _ **Alice: Pardon my French**_

 _Five Years Ago; Mardi Gras_

I pretended like I didn't hear them, and caught onto her arm.

"So how was my French earlier?" I asked perkily, sliding into the round booth first and leaving just enough room for Rosalie and Rakim to take the seat next to mine.

"Trés magnifique." Rosalie smiled down to me, shaking off whatever just happened between she and Emmett.

Emmett and Heidi would have to take the seats to my right.

Rakim though, politely took the seat next to me so Rosalie wouldn't have to slide in the booth.

She smiled and gracefully took a seat at the end.

Emmett put his hand on Rosalie's shoulder.

Her eyes shot up to him, her brow furrowed angrily and she flinched away.

"Alice, would you be a dear?" Emmett smirked down to Rosalie even as he addressed me.

Rosalie audibly groaned, rolling her eyes to express her displeasure, but ultimately scooted over.

So, Rakim and I did the same.

He made a face, not being inconspicuous about it.

No one paid mind.

The most disappointed of all though with Emmett's seating choice was Heidi, who took the seat on my other side as intended.

But, he didn't even look her way. All of his attention was on Rosalie.

Poor Rakim. He was frowning, and began to search Rosalie's face for signs. He was examining the air between she and Emmett just like I was.

Heidi though was still oblivious and centered only on the task of getting Emmett into bed with her.

I don't mean to throw any shade at Emmett, but usually she wouldn't have to try this hard. She was gorgeous and he was here alone. That was usually all it really took.

But, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that the tension between Emmett and Rosalie was romantically motivated and he wasn't going home with _anyone_ any time soon…

"So Heidi, why don't you tell us how you got into social media influencing?" I prompted conversation, willing there to be something to break the tension in the air.

Heidi started a story that none of us were really listening to, but we all nodded every so often at appropriate times until Jasper returned.

"Two Sazeracs, one Vieux Carré, and… uh Rosalie, I brought you a lime soda?" Jasper tested as he set the drinks down on the table.

Heidi exited the booth so Jasper could slide in.

"Perfect." Rosalie said softly, taking the drink with a half-smile.

"Oh my God. This Sazerac is to die for." Heidi exclaimed.

"Man, this is real good." Rakim nodded.

"Jasper knows what he's doing." Emmett said with a grin, but was seeming to speak to Rakim only to let him know who the alpha was.

Men…

"Rub it in everyone, it's fine." Rosalie grumbled, twirling her soda straw.

Emmett laughed a full-bodied laugh and she allowed herself some leeway as she gave him a little smile.

In the very swift moment their eyes met, it seemed like time stopped.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were in love.

No way. Absolutely _no way_.

I tilted my head to put it on Jasper's shoulder and he just chuckled modestly.

"It's in my blood." Jasper shrugged, and I kissed him on the cheek.

We launched into a conversation about the restaurant which then had us transitioning into us all talking about our work. I loved conversation about work because I loved my job and I found so much fulfillment from it.

I loved talking about what I was doing and the goals I was setting. I just loved being a busy bee, and I loved surrounding myself with ambitious people.

The group of us were all pretty ambitious, and I was _thriving_ and so inspired! I wished for this group of people to start hanging out regularly, but I didn't know if that weirdness between Emmett and Rosalie would ever fade. Either way, having them around did wonders for my own drive because they were both such passionate and driven people themselves.

I focused though on the conversation at hand and I learned Rakim really was a brilliant artist. He talked about the creative process with confidence and it was intensely interesting.

He put his arm around Rosalie as he talked about wanting Rosalie in the music video for his new single and being inspired by that diamond ad.

 _Naturally._ I thought and I rolled my eyes to myself.

"I mean, didn't she look hot as hell in those diamonds?" He squeezed her tight and she smiled just as tightly as she wriggled out of his grip.

One thing about Rosalie that hadn't changed was the fact she absolutely hated to be touched.

I watched Emmett finish his drink with record speed, keeping his eyes down even though Rosalie looked directly at him.

My eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Her cheeks turned a faint scarlet, but I saw the determination in her eyes.

Emmett was a man; _no doubt_ he'd seen those pictures of her.

Everyone with eyes had seen Rosalie's recent photo shoots.

But, the look in her eyes as she looked over at him…

It'd make any person think that she took those pictures _just for him_.

I shook my head to shake the thought.

But… it'd make sense why she seemed to be doing things out of character…

"What'd you think?" She asked Emmett confidently as she turned to him.

It confirmed my conspiracy.

Emmett's eyes shot over to her.

Jasper and I exchanged a look.

I wasn't making this up. There was something going on between them.

Rakim seemed angry about this finally and grabbed Rosalie's arm pulling her back by him.

Rosalie frowned, flinching away from him.

"I think you'd do a wonderful job creating a collection for Tommy Hilfiger." Emmett smirked in her direction, obviously toying with her by referring to something else entirely and not her internet-breaking photoshoots.

She was rumored to have a Tommy X Rosalie collection in the works. It was obvious Emmett was following news on her with a comment like that.

His eyes darted over where Rakim held on to Rosalie's arm, obviously not liking that very much.

"Thank you. I hope you're right." She smirked right back, not finding his redirection amusing.

Jasper and I exchanged another look, then I remembered I was a reporter and I perked up.

"So wait… it's true?!" I squealed.

Rosalie's eyes went wide.

"Whoops." Emmett laughed heartily, and Rosalie chewed on her bottom lip.

"Is it too late to say it's off the record?" Rosalie couldn't help but giggle now and her eyes met Emmett's as she smiled.

The electricity between them was undeniable.

Then, just as quickly as it came, her smile disappeared like a shooting star - fleeting and if I'd blinked I would've missed it.

Her eyes darted down to her lap and she laced her fingers together nervously.

"When can I get you to confirm it on the record?" I pushed, bouncing my knees.

"Friday." Rosalie looked back up at me, trying to relax.

"You're welcome for that story, Alice." Emmett winked in my direction.

"So, Friday morning, can we do a phone interview?" I squealed.

Rosalie agreed to have me over for coffee at her family's loft so we could talk in person and I was happy to get to break the story. I was also sensing she wanted some girl talk too.

Of course, I was happy to oblige.

"I know Robert's been missing me at poker on Thursday nights, so I might see you again in a couple days too, Rosalie." Emmett seemed to be taunting her with his tone and sickly sweet smile.

"He asked me why he hadn't seen you in a month." Rosalie said with an accusatory tone.

"What'd you tell him?" Emmett seemed to challenge her.

For a long, hanging moment their eyes burned into one another's with a passionate emotion that was teetering the line between hatred and love.

"You've been busy gracing the cover of Forbes obviously." Jasper began to tease Emmett about his recent Forbes cover.

He was the cover of the 30 under 30 issue and he didn't mind the attention of course. And rightfully so, he should be very proud of that. I mean, that solidified him as a powerhouse of our generation.

I was a little jealous though because I really wanted my own name to be part of 30 under 30… But, I was still happy for him. It stung a little to see how proud Jasper was of him because of my own irrational desire to monopolize success and accolades.

Then, Heidi mentioned he should ask Rosalie for some modeling tips because the social media petitions and hashtags for People to nominate him for Sexiest Man Alive this year were really gaining traction and attention, and he laughed so hard I thought he was going to fall out of the booth.

I laughed too, absolutely unable to imagine that just because I knew him and what a goofball he was.

"What?! Who votes on this?! Do they even have eyes?!" Jasper joked.

"I mean, I may have chimed in too." Heidi seemed like a vulture as she laughed with us, but Rosalie was stone still, her eyes down at her hands.

"Ouch, Jasper." Emmett's booming laughter was contagious and I found myself laughing.

"And hey now, I don't need any tips. I already got a magazine cover." Emmett jokingly posed, laughing with Jasper.

"Oh my God, no stop that right now." I cringed and covered my eyes with a laugh. "And whoa whoa whoa, Rosalie is two covers away from holding the record for the most VOGUE covers ever and she's only seventeen. You could learn a thing or two from her."

Rosalie blushed bright red, rolling her eyes.

"I'm sure I could." Emmett was obviously in good humor, catching her gaze again.

Something about him now seemed on edge, and far removed from the humor of his previous tone.

"I need another drink." Rosalie mumbled, ripping her eyes away and looking over to Rakim.

She expected him to offer.

He eventually did, but not before his eyes darted over to Emmett.

"Okay…" Rakim narrowed his eyes, but smiled at her, ducking to kiss her on the cheek.

She shied away from him, turning her face even more so he could barely reach her to brush her skin with his lips.

Before Rakim was even out of earshot, Emmett went for Rosalie.

"You don't have to-" He started.

"Get _out_ of here." She growled under her breath.

If I wasn't sitting right next to her, I wouldn't have heard her.

"I want to be here." He said defiantly, absolutely not understanding the concept of whispering.

"Well, I definitely don't want to make small talk with you." Rosalie hissed at him harshly.

"We can be friends, Rosalie." He protested quietly, his eyes wide.

"I _don't_ want to be friends with you." She gasped.

"I _can't_ be friends with you." She said now, more tenderly.

He looked at her with tragedy in his eyes, but nodded.

"Please?… Please leave. I'm trying. I'm trying so hard, Em. Please. I can't do this with you here." She whispered and when she turned away from him I saw how her eyes glistened like she was going to burst into tears.

"But, I don't want you to…" He started, but seemed nervous to finish his sentence, something he never was.

"Em, please." She begged again, her violet eyes on fire.

"Okay…" He said, right as soon as Rakim came back with Rosalie's drink.

Emmett stood to let him in the booth.

The break in conversation seemed like a cue to Heidi to try her luck with Emmett.

"So, you wanna go grab another drink?" Heidi asked him, nodding to his now empty glass and how he stood.

"No, I shouldn't." He dismissed.

"But, it's Mardi Gras." She insisted, reaching for his hand.

I willed him to take her with him, to make things less awkward for everyone, but he didn't, and even worse, he retracted his hand, making it obvious he was rejecting her advances.

Heidi was persistent though.

"Mardi Gras will end up getting me in trouble." He smiled lightly, but spoke quickly to put the subject to rest. "I was actually just about to…"

He was obviously nervous and in his head because his accent came out and his consonants disappeared into his breath more obviously. Usually, he took special care to pronounce his words and tighten his loose sentences, unless he was drunk, really relaxed or on the other hand if he was overthinking and nervous.

"Oh my God, I loooove your accent." She raved, leaning forward on her elbows, batting her long black eyelashes and tucking her dark curly hair behind her ear in a blatantly suggestive manner. "What is it, like Spanish or something right?"

I grimaced. They didn't have a chance in hell after she commented on his accent.

Well, I say that… He'd gone home with much worse before…

Heidi wasn't giving up. She was going to keep flirting with him until he offered to take her with him.

"What are you talking about? I don't have an accent." He said in good humor, his dimples showing. "I really should be…"

She just giggled just thinking he was joking around and flirting with her.

"He's just _leaving_." Rosalie's face looked white and pale as bone as she stared up at him harshly.

"Don't go!" Jasper said naively. "What is wrong with you?! You're usually a party animal! You just need another drink"

"Please, stay a while!" Heidi pleaded. "Por favor."

Emmett made a face at her disgrace of the Spanish language, but seemed to give her a break and chuckled. I slapped a hand over to my face having to disguise my snorting laugh of judgment as just clearing my throat.

Rosalie shot Jasper a look then Jasper made a face over to me and I shrugged as we communicated through just a series of glances.

"Yeah, stay a while. Where you from, man?" Rakim asked Emmett at the mention of an accent, and something about his tone seemed confrontational.

Emmett slid to sit next to Heidi and she was obviously happy about that.

"Hunts Point." Emmett sighed exasperatedly, but knew it wasn't that Bronx twist on his words that he was referring to; that was obviously recognizable to Rakim.

"No, I mean… Wait, Hunts Point?! I grew up in Castle Hill…" Rakim nodded, obviously trying to like him or connect with him even though there was obvious tension.

Major kudos to Rakim just for trying, but Emmett wasn't having it that's for sure.

"Talk about a small world." Heidi inserted herself into the conversation but obviously didn't know what they were talking about. She was from California.

"You're one of those fancy folks across the bridge." Emmett snorted cheekily, denying the connection with him.

"No one's _ever_ called me fancy." Rakim cackled, tossing his head back.

Rakim seemed to take offense, deciding that there was no hope in trying to like him.

Rosalie was tense as she watched the exchange happen between them. It was obvious their personalities repelled each other.

"Well, if you've ever crossed the bridge you know why I'd have that perception." Emmett shrugged with a little laugh, but his expression was odd.

"You're leaving." Rosalie reminded him.

"Hunts Point's rough as hell, man. Even to me." Rakim shook his head, ignoring her.

"I liked it enough to move back after law school." Emmett chuckled darkly, and suddenly his nice clothes seemed like a disguise.

Something in his dark laughter seemed offended though, and I worried. I knew from my own journalistic research that he spearheaded lots of initiatives to clean up the area and get kids in school and worked especially tirelessly to get the women of the area more educated and empowered.

But, he would never talk about any of it for more than a sentence or two.

At first I thought it might have been just because he was modest…

"Your folks didn't get out?" Rakim asked with an odd look in his eyes.

His phrasing, 'get out' was not lost on me, nor was it lost on Emmett.

"They're in Queens now. Maspeth." Emmett nodded carefully.

" _Nobody_ gets out of Hooker's Point alive." Rakim was visibly impressed. "It always sucks people back."

Rakim was speaking lightheartedly, but Emmett wasn't having any of it.

His jaw was clenched and he was stoic.

"Hooker's Point?!" Jasper asked with a laugh, making it obvious he wasn't from New York.

"Jasper…" I warned.

"Sorry, I mean I didn't…" Jasper said under his breath.

Emmett seemed for the first time taken aback and at a loss for words.

He was very proud of living in the Bronx, very proud of moving to Queens with his family, and loved going back to the Bronx after law school, and obviously now he loved living in Manhattan, but it was hard for him to leave the Bronx. He wasn't reticent about his time in the Bronx as far as details, but that was the first big indicator of how gritty his neighborhood really was growing up.

I knew a little about the drugs and sex and addiction of Hunts Point, and assumed its truth when that's where Emmett told me he was originally from and the fact he never had invited us over when he lived there the entire time we'd known each other, but I naively never thought about how it affected him growing up or if it even did. He seemed so far removed from it that it seemed to be a moot point.

"Hunts Point's a red light district. Hos, Pimps, Addicts, that stuff everywhere you look." Rakim explained to Jasper. "There's even a movie about it. It's the real deal."

"Yeah. My neighbor, Lucille, was in that _incredibly trivializing_ and short sighted excuse of a documentary." Emmett nodded sourly.

Rosalie looked over at Emmett now, but he didn't meet her gaze.

"What?!" Jasper was trying to mend the tension in Emmett's voice. "You're kidding! Look at you now, on the cover of Forbes."

"Well…" Emmett's face changed and I saw something odd in his eyes. "She was a great woman, but they got her at Rikers. I tried working on her case last year, but the judge wasn't budging. She's got parole though coming up for good behavior, but it's been close to ten years already."

He seemed to be defending this woman's honor in a way.

He hated the "Cinderella story" narrative that seemed to follow him everywhere. As a reporter, I knew that was the most obvious angle for him though and people ate it up. He was an immigrant, grew up in a rough neighborhood, but defied all odds for the American dream. He paid his way through school working about a thousand jobs, and loved his mama so the first time he had any money, he bought her a good apartment. That was a story that just wrote itself!

People _loved_ stories like that…

"What did they say she did?" I asked now, the journalist in me wanting to know.

"Heroin and prostitution _is_ illegal if you're caught by the wrong cop." Emmett shrugged, desensitized to things like that. "She was just doing the best she could though… Her parents died when she was young and she had a kid on her own at fourteen. Then the kid died of leukemia. It was all pretty dark stuff…"

It became obvious he was taking the conversation personally, and really wanted to make sure the people of "Hooker's Point" were humanized and not thought of in such a surface level way. He was fighting for his "hometown" and making sure to defend its honor too.

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry" Rosalie's cheeks flushed obviously not reading into context clues, but was also sensing what I had in Emmett's face and not wanting Emmett to feel cornered.

He shrugged and looked over at her.

Even in the smallest of exchanges, it became apparent when they addressed one another that they were meant to be.

Their eyes met and it was magnetic.

Rosalie's fingers seemed to inch toward him across the table, but she put her hands back in her lap to stop herself.

"Lucy lived down the street and knew enough Spanish she could help us with our homework."

"That's so nice." Rosalie agreed, and it became obvious that she seemed to desire to fill the gaping holes she sensed in the nostalgia of his heart on the matter.

He went on, evidently sharing information hungrily to open himself up for her.

"She'd make dinner for me and my sister sometimes when my mom'd be working late at the diner." Emmett said to expand on the subject, partially because Rosalie had been interested.

It was obvious he was still trying to humanize her and the people now, and had taken this whole conversation very personally.

" _Behind_ the diner." Rakim snorted and made a face, making it obvious he was instigating something between the two of them.

You didn't have to be a genius to know Rakim had just insinuated that Emmett's mom had been a Hooker's Point prostitute.

Jasper looked over at me, wide-eyed.

Emmett, sunshiney, happy go lucky, never hurt a fly, Emmett transformed before our very eyes. He was a big guy, tall, broad shouldered, and would most likely terrify anyone he came into contact with if it weren't for the eternal smile on his face revealing the fact he was really just a big teddy bear.

But now, his eyes were dark and vicious, and he absolutely undoubtedly terrified me. A chill ran down my spine at just how monstrous he could look at just the flip of a switch.

"Do we need to step outside?" Emmett bowed up and my mouth hung open as he stood over Rakim.

I didn't want there to be a scene and I panicked.

Jasper rose from the booth and put his hand on Emmett's shoulder obviously not wanting a scene either.

You can take the boy out of the Bronx, but you can't take the Bronx out of the boy. Emmett had joked with Jasper about how much fighting he did growing up when they would wrestle around like children, but it felt so hard to believe because Emmett was just a ball of light and sunshine.

Now though, it was evident that it didn't matter how scrappy and fiery Rakim was, Emmett'd kill him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Man, I don't got a problem with you or your five dollar crack whore mother." Rakim fired back, standing to meet his gaze.

"Why don't you watch your mouth?" Emmett was absolutely feral then, but Rosalie was fast and stood between them.

"Em, stop!" She said intensely, reaching for his face to guide his gaze toward her.

He shrugged her off, lunging around her.

"Hey, stop. Look at me." She said softly as Jasper wrapped his arm around Emmett to hold him back just in time to pull him off of Rakim before anything real happened.

Emmett was shaking, but he exhaled as his eyes found hers.

"Oh my God." Heidi gasped. I don't think my jaw could ever be picked up off the floor. My heart was racing as I took it all in.

"Calm down. It's okay." Rosalie brushed Emmett's hair behind his ear tenderly.

At this, Emmett grabbed Rosalie's wrist as if to make her stop, and his eyes danced over her face.

I noticed my eyes were as wide as saucers as I watched them look at one another with no veil of defense in front of their eyes.

He looked at her like he knew her, _really_ knew her as he held onto her.

My eyes were fixated on the way he held her wrist. It was… _reverent_.

Only a millisecond passed before she ripped her hand out of his like his skin was scalding hot and she turned back toward Rakim.

" _What is your problem_?" Rosalie asked, her eyes wide and her tone full of defensiveness.

It was apparent where her loyalties were. The look in her eyes made it seem like she was going to fight him for Emmett.

Rosalie was not the most forgiving person in the world. You annoy her, or wrong her _once_ , and she writes you off for eternity. It didn't take much to get on her list, but Rakim had suddenly gotten to the top of it.

"My problem is that he's been eyeing my girl all night." Rakim snapped, realizing she'd closed herself off to him.

"That's ridiculous." Rosalie rolled her eyes, but I noticed her cheeks turned scarlet.

"And you're over here treating me like I'm stupid." Rakim snorted.

"No, you're just delusional…" She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, making it obvious she was closing herself off as he reached for her.

"Yeah, must be delusional because I thought you weren't just gonna be a prudish little tease…" He snapped back his hand.

" _Don't_ talk to her like that." Emmett shot forward again as Rakim verbally attacked Rosalie, but she held her arm out, obviously capable of defending herself.

Jasper renewed his grip on Emmett, not letting go any time soon. He looked over at me with wide, confused eyes.

"Hey, maybe _he_ gets Saint Rosalie to put out." Rakim threw his hands up like he was exasperated, seeming to taunt them both now.

"You're acting irrational." Rosalie insisted, narrowing her eyes and flushing scarlet.

"You're acting like a too good little virgin, when you're not." Rakim fired off.

Rosalie's face went bone white, and Emmett threw a swift left hook that barely missed Rakim's face as Jasper pulled hard on Emmett to get him to back off.

"Wow. You're almost half as crazy as she is. Good riddance the both of you." Rakim laughed now though.

This was obviously intensely emotional territory for Rosalie and I hated that he was fighting her with her weakness in the foreground. She didn't have any control over what happened to her, and that's no doubt a reason she was so uptight about her sexuality and boys and men in the first place.

I could see the relationship between he and Rosalie wasn't healthy or serious at all by this exchange, and now, it was going up in flames. They didn't stand a chance.

"Hey, let's calm down." Jasper said tentatively, still holding tightly onto Emmett like he could pounce on Rakim at any moment. "We're getting out of here. No need for any trouble. We're out of here. You guys enjoy your night. Please. We don't want any trouble. We're out of here."

"I'm not leaving her with him." Emmett snarled.

"She _came_ with me." Rakim tried to outdo him, his eyes on fire.

"Emmett, come on." Jasper encouraged, pulling him back and away from the situation.

Rosalie stood taller, her chin forward in defiance and resolution.

Emmett's eyes darted over her.

Rosalie kept her eyes purposefully away from him, even though he desperately fought for her gaze.

I stood up and encouraged Jasper and Emmett in a mumble to get out of here.

"We'll leave you guys to it." I said, trying to stay pleasant. "Heidi, Rakim, it was lovely to meet you. Rosalie, I guess I'll talk to you Friday."

My voice shook as I tried to keep everything normal.

I smiled, but Rosalie was cold as ice, her eyes straight through me as Rakim sat back down next to her.

She wasn't over it, but she'd stopped fighting.

Heidi was wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and just perma-smiled back to me before trying to act like everything was normal. It was obvious she was still in shock.

"Yeah, I'm going to go find Marco and Julian downstairs." Heidi mumbled.

My legs felt like Jell-O as I rounded the corner and saw Jasper had pushed into the kitchen with Emmett who was still seething.

" _What was that_?" I asked, alarmed as I caught up with them.

"I'm… sorry… I…" Emmett exhaled as Jasper finally thought it was safe to let him go. He slid to sit with his knees up and his back against the wall.

Emmett ran his hands through his hair, stressed obviously as he vibrated with anger and pent up energy.

"Yeah Emmett, what the hell, man?" Jasper groaned, pacing along the kitchen floor.

He covered his face with his folded arms and I worried about him stressing so much today on his opening.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what… I…" Emmett stumbled over his words like he'd never done as long as I'd known him and bounced his knees nervously.

"I've _never_ seen you act like that." I accused.

Emmett and I had a bond like brother and sister. I didn't let him get away with anything. I always kept him on his toes and called him on his crap, but he didn't deserve what was said to him, and I couldn't blame him for acting that way.

"Sorry, I…" He spoke through gritted teeth.

He looked down, swallowing nervously before he leaned his head back against the wall closing his eyes and cursing foully.

I sat down and took his hand, and it was shaking as it overwhelmed mine.

I looked up at Jasper, uncertain.

Emmett was actually… _upset_.

He was seething, trying to calm down for what felt like an eternity. Jasper had the time to make himself a drink and he brought Emmett a glass of neat whiskey.

"I'm sorry." Emmett mumbled, barely intelligible as he swallowed the glass in one gulp. "I just… God…"

He cursed again, this time taking his hand out of mine to pound on the floor, frustrated.

He was never out of his head. He was never like this.

I wanted to get the courage to ask about Rosalie, but now didn't seem a good time.

"Emmett, relax. It's not a big deal. Only a prick talks about another guy's mother." Jasper dismissed.

Emmett cursed, his knees bouncing as he put both of his hands on his head.

"I just…" He seemed to be at war about something in his mind.

I looked over at Jasper. I worried about Rosalie, knowing enough time had passed that I needed to check on her to make sure she was okay.

"How can she?…" He trailed off. "He's…"

"I know." I nodded, putting my hand on his arm before I stood to my feet.

"She can't…" He groaned. "Ugh, Jesus Christ…"

He was in rare form.

"He shouldn't talk to Rosalie like that." Emmett growled, obviously intensely upset.

"No, he shouldn't." Jasper agreed.

"She's… God…" Emmett groaned, in physical pain over this as his face twisted in anguish. "She can't…"

"She can take care of herself." I insisted.

"She doesn't deserve…." Emmett ran a hand over his face.

" _What_ is going on with you two?" I finally asked, stepping out on a ledge, but by the look in Emmett's eyes, I was right.

Jasper shot me a look.

Emmett paused, vibrating with pent up energy and nerves.

"I don't know what you're talking-" He started to mumble.

"Don't give me that crap." I said, frustrated.

He paused for a long moment.

I groaned, rolling my eyes impatiently.

"For the love of God, Emmett…"

Emmett's gaze flashed with something I'd never seen in his eyes before…

 _Fear._

"I can't…" He breathed.

"Listen, I'm going to just look and make sure she's okay." I said, backing away slowly.

Emmett cursed again, running his hands through his hair, but didn't acknowledge what I said.

"Emmett will be fine." I assured Jasper, kissing him on the cheek before I slipped out the door.

As I looked over to the booth where we sat, I saw Rosalie was alone and her head was down.

I opened my mouth to call for her, but someone else did it before I did.

"Rosalie!" Emmett called out her name.

"Emmett!" Jasper called out after him, letting him slip through his fingers.

Jasper shot me a look before we both followed him right back out to where we had just pulled him out of a brawl.

"Rosalie!" He called again.

"She's alone." I noted to Jasper's concern and Jasper and I hung back now.

My heart was beating in my ears as I saw Emmett rip Rosalie out of the booth by her arm. She was more than a willing participant as he pulled her to stand in front of him, but she tensed up in his hands before he wrapped his fingers around her shoulders, molding her like putty.

"Rosalie, listen to me." He commanded loud enough for us to hear.

Her lips parted slightly in a little gasp, her wide violet eyes searching his face rapidly.

"I don't want to see you with anyone else. Ever again." Emmett said, panting the words, shaking her shoulders slightly.

Rosalie looked taken aback but didn't shirk away from him as he held on to her. Her big purple eyes sparkled like I'd never seen them.

"I don't like it. I _hate_ it." Emmett took her face now, his eyes intense and convicted as he looked her over.

She nodded again and again, her eyes wide and vast.

"You tell him to leave you alone for good. You tell _everyone_ to leave you alone for good." Emmett told her, his voice strong as the words poured from his mouth without a filter.

"I… I j-just did what you told me to do. You t-told me to…" Her bottom lip trembled, and he exhaled a little nervous, strained laugh as he swapped to hold her face.

"Well, I made a stupid, awful mistake." He stroked her cheek with his thumb and my jaw dropped. "I thought I was doing the right thing but I was so so wrong and I made a mistake. _I_ want you. I want you, Rose. I want to treat you right."

I looked at Jasper for the briefest of moments, but couldn't peel my eyes away from them for too long, afraid I was going to miss something.

This was the most bizarre thing I'd ever experienced.

"I hope you still think you love me." He said, his hands tenderly caressing her face, but also hungrily trying to memorize the way she felt.

"Rosalie, answer me." They left friendly a long time ago. He looked at her, touched her, and stayed near her like she was the last bit of oxygen and he wanted to breathe her in.

It was primal and natural and wild.

I gasped at the sheer rawness of it.

I had never in my life seen anything like it.

"I don't." Rosalie swallowed.

His face fell tragically, and I had to admit my heart did too.

"I… I don't think it. I _know_ it. Don't treat me like I…"

"Rosalie, I…" He started, nervously running his hands through his own hair as he stood in front of her.

"I love you and I shouldn't have lied to you and tell you I didn't. I do. I do love you." Emmett redirected, gaining his confidence to just say it now.

"No." She closed her eyes shut tightly, pushing him away. "Don't tell me that."

She begged this of him, her eyes full to the brim with heartache.

"But, Rosalie, I do…" He started.

"Please, don't… Don't tell me that you…" She trailed off, and I saw Rosalie Hale start to cry for the very first time in as long as I'd known her when he kissed her forehead, his contact with her visceral and intimate. "Please don't say that to me if you don't mean it."

"Despite everything, I'm in love with you, Rosalie Hale." He said strongly.

I shot my gaze to Jasper and he was just staring, open-mouthed like I was.

"Then, why didn't you call?" Rosalie asked in a tiny voice, and I saw the painful aching and heartbreak in her eyes.

"Because I'm too damn stupid, Rosalie." He exhaled.

"And because I'm scared. I'm terrified of you."

"Why?" She questioned.

"Because the second I let you in, that's _it_ for me. That's it. Because when I love you I know I'll love you with every single little fiber of my soul, and…" He raved, and my stomach jumped at the intensity in his voice.

"Jesus Christ, Rosalie, I know how much I can love you and… it's the scariest thing in the world. I'm not ever getting over you. I'm not ever loving anyone after you; I'm not _living_ after you and that _terrifies_ me."

She took a deep inhale, her eyes darting over his face and her bottom lip trembling violently.

"But, I don't care anymore. I wanna be terrified with you. I wanna pretend I was never not yours, and never not terrified of how much I can love you." He raved.

"Tell me you love me too." Emmett begged her, his hands on her in desperation. "Please, Rosalie."

I wasn't scared of his urgency. I was just taken aback.

"Oh. my. stars." Jasper whispered, just to me like we were witnessing some once-in-a-lifetime celestial event.

In the space between his words and the brilliant smile that spread across Rosalie's face, a universe was created with a cosmic, big-bang worthy explosion -

when he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her before she could say a word.

But, the shock wasn't over because when she pulled away, she smacked him straight in the face.


	30. Four Walls

_Hey everyone! THAAAAAAAAAAAAANK YOU FOR YOUR REVIEWS!_

 _It really makes me sad not to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one! I gave you another one to make up for your wait!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some sneaking around and a chapter about them being newly married and some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

Next Chapter will most likely still be Rosalie's POV!

* * *

 ** _Four Walls - Broods_**

 _You walked in and said, "I've got some news_

 _I didn't say all I wanted to_

 _You know I told you that I wasn't scared. Well, I lied."_

 _You told me, "Babe I only think of you."_

 _And I said, "All I've got is a bunch of sad stories."_

 _And I told them all before the night was through_

 _And we cried, oh, but we're here now_

 _And I'm trying hard to make you love me but I don't wanna try too hard_

 _And I'm trying hard to take it lightly but we're here now_

 _Those four walls now are the only place that I can breathe out_

 _And those four walls now are home_

 _Those four walls now are the only place that I can feel_

 _Those four walls now are home_

 _I wanna make you feel how I feel when I'm listening to love songs_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Jumping Off a Cliff, Then Trying to Turn Around**

 _Five Years Ago; Mardi Gras_

My hand stung like I'd just stuck it into a fire pit, and I retracted my throbbing fingers to trace over my lips again and again.

Every nerve ending was electric. I felt energy coursing through my veins and it was some grand, great awakening in the core of my being.

 _I'd been kissed._

I'd been _kissed._

My mind was loud and screaming, but over it all I could hear my heartbeat in my ears and my own ragged breathing as I tried to determine whether or not my mouth was still attached to my face or if it had indeed floated away into the heavens above.

"Ow?" Emmett held his hand to his own cheek, looking at me with wide questioning eyes that despite of their befuddlement were sparkling like a clear night sky full of stars.

What was written in the constellations of those big brown eyes?

 _He kissed me_.

He _kissed_ me.

He kissed _me_.

My mind cleared and I remembered the reason my own hand was on fire was because I'd hit him.

"Why did you do that?" I gasped, panic hitting me all at once.

"Because… I… I wanted to kiss you?" He ran a hand through his hair and darted his eyes down nervously.

The words floated to my ears like I was lying in the middle of the ocean, and he sounded just as far away.

Then, my stomach jumped in response to their impact and I couldn't help but smile. Luckily, my hand was covering my mouth so he couldn't see it.

But, my eyes betrayed me because I started to see those dimples on his cheeks that I just found the most charming thing in the world.

"But that was obviously not okay with you?…" He mumbled uncertainly, his eyes burning into mine.

I processed his words, letting them ring in my ears before I nodded, keeping my eyes away from him.

I'd acted irrationally of course. You don't respond to a kiss with a fist. But, that was my first reaction… But, it was only because of just how much it took me by surprise. I wanted him to kiss me. I really wanted him to kiss me.

I think I wanted him to try again now that I was ready and I knew what to expect.

That… _That_ was my first kiss.

It was hungry and passionate and ravenous and… _desperately fleeting._

Life was in technicolor. Clean air rushed into my lungs.

My cheeks flushed violently at this realization that I was too embarrassed to share with him. I didn't want to. Then, my bottom lip began to tremble, my throat got tight, and liquid pushed at my eyes.

"Rosalie… Oh God, please don't cry." He noticed, tragedy in his voice as he noticed the tears I tried unsuccessfully to catch inconspicuously from racing down my cheeks.

He reached out for me, then decided against it, balling his fingers into fists at his side awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry." He said genuinely, his eyes full of concern.

"I'm not." I murmured, barely audibly.

I was glad he kissed me. How could he be sorry about that?

"Rosalie, I…" He was at war with himself, and it made panic rise in my lungs.

Would he take it back?

"You just… _blindsided_ me." I breathed, my voice ragged as I stared down at his hands.

I wanted to be ready for it now. I wanted to be ready to record every detail. I wanted to be ready to revel in it.

He'd kissed me and I didn't even have time to think about it. I didn't even have time to face the reality that was evident now… _He wanted me just like I wanted him_.

I swallowed, looking down and tracing my fingers over the lips that would never again be the same.

"We can talk about it first?" He suggested. "Come here, let's… I'm sorry. I…"

"I think I want you to do it again." I begged in a whisper, moving my fingers from where they traced over my lips so I could toss my arms around his shoulders.

"You think?" He chuckled a little in what was apparently confusion at my madly shifting reaction, but he shifted quickly to a grin that meant he was pleased as he accepted my embrace, his fingers pressing into my back.

"I do. No, yeah, I do. I really do." I nodded, furrowing my brow as I pulled back to look up at him.

"This isn't a good idea." He sighed, his eyes darting down at our feet as he let go of me.

He had just leapt off a cliff and now he was trying to turn around! It angered me.

"You're right. It's the _best_ idea that's ever been had." I redirected, hungrily craning my neck to try and touch my lips to his again.

"Why did you hit me then?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled, darting my eyes down, feeling embarrassed at his rejection of my affections all over again due to my own irrationality.

"I'm not." He mirrored my earlier statement. "That was your natural reaction."

My eyes darted down. The only way to explain myself was to tell him - revealing the naivety and innocence of my youth - that I'd never been kissed before and I just didn't expect it to happen like that - that _fast_.

"We need to talk about it, Rosalie." Emmett said, putting his hands on the tops of my shoulders to make me keep my distance.

I pouted, so he let me duck my head into his chest as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

I closed my eyes and he sighed.

"Or, we can just chalk it up as another one of my boneheaded mistakes and never think twice about it." He suggested, trying to remain lighthearted, but I noticed the odd tension in his tone.

"No." I breathed, tightening my arms around his waist. "I wouldn't like that. I want to think about it"

He seemed to not know what to say because he stayed quiet. I knew what to say, but I didn't want to say it.

"Talk to me." He said, tugging on my hand toward the booth that had just been full.

It seemed like a different lifetime entirely. That all happened when I was just a caterpillar. Now, I'd emerged as a butterfly, and barely recalled the fuzzy memories of my previous life.

I sat next to him, close, but he slid further away to put some distance between us as we talked.

Still he held onto my hand though, looking down at my fingers as he twisted and turned them in his own. He seemed to be examining them.

It still made my heart race to be near him, and it felt like the most natural and otherworldly experience all at once.

The world around us moved on as normal, but both of our worlds had vastly changed.

We were high in the loft, the dance floor buzzing below us, but we were totally alone up here in the private area Jasper had set aside.

"Oh my God, Alice and Jasper." I felt my eyes widen, noticing they were nowhere to be found.

"I… Well…" Emmett ran a hand through his hair, not really knowing how to respond.

"We can't…" I started.

"I know." Emmett finished my thought, nodding seriously as he acknowledged no one else could know.

I nodded, satisfied. There was really nothing else to say on the matter.

"I didn't even ask you what you wanted, Rosalie." Emmett appeared to be nervous as he said this, thinking he was opening up a can of worms.

I swallowed.

"A month can be a lifetime." He mumbled, looking up into my eyes.

"I know." I whispered, keeping his gaze.

I thought about how I hadn't even seen those eyes in a whole month and the last time I'd seen him, he'd be walking away from me.

"What changed your mind?" I finally asked, my voice cracking.

He paused, seeming to collect his thoughts.

"I always couldn't live without you. I just didn't know it until I had to." He answered with molten chocolate eyes.

This answer satisfied me, but still he continued.

"And… And Pilar got in my head." He mumbled.

I recalled the name and the flash of red dress girl entered my memory. Jealousy plagued me and I couldn't stop the sour look on my face.

"She made me see that I… I couldn't let anything get in my way." He explained himself, tracing patterns on my skin with his fingertips. "No excuses, no odds, nothing."

"So, if you hadn't seen me here with someone else?" I pressed, not letting him off easy I suppose, but I really was just curious.

Emmett frowned. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I honestly didn't think you'd be here." He mumbled.

His expression shifted to one of determination and fire.

"I'm sorry if you liked him." He said with tension, but was genuine.

"He was all right." I shrugged. "Interesting, talented guy, but he turned out to be a jerk. It's for the best I think."

I gave Emmett a little smile, and he returned it with a little chuckle.

"Still… I wanted you to have a chance to figure that out yourself." He said nervously.

I didn't know what to say.

"But, if I hadn't seen you today, I was planning to come see you tonight." Emmett said, his eyes darting over my face. "I at least wanted you to know how I felt about you so you could decide yourself."

Now, he touched my face, his thumb rubbing over my cheek tenderly. He looked over me a thousand times.

"Kiss me again." I requested and he laughed, kissing my forehead before tucking my hair behind my ear.

I frowned at his rejection.

"I'll kiss you a thousand times if you'll let me." He said now, making my heart jump at the words.

Our contact was the most natural thing that I'd ever experienced, but it still left butterflies in my stomach to feel his touch.

"I still don't think that's sufficient." I bit my bottom lip and those darling dimples appeared on his cheeks.

I smiled up at him now and he touched my face like I was the most precious thing on earth.

"But, I figure I should take you out first." He said with a mischievously boyish smile.

I wasn't following his plan, but he tugged on my hand to pull me out of the booth.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I skittered behind him, trying to keep up with his pace as he walked toward the far corner of the room near the family restroom.

He opened the door, gesturing for me to go inside. I stepped over the threshold, looking at him with confused but amused eyes.

"I'm picking you up for a date." He said, closing the door then opening it again just as quickly.

"Wow. You look so beautiful, Rosalie." Emmett said when he opened the door, just as if he'd picked me up.

I laughed, but tried to play along as I did a twirl for him.

His eyes lit up as he let himself look at me, really look at me like I'd asked him to what seemed like so long ago. He saw me as more now. Not only that though, he saw me as… _the most_.

"Thank you." I blushed as he offered his arm.

"How'd a schmuck like me snag a date with the likes of you?" He winked as I threaded my arm through his.

"You kept me waiting." I teased, biting my lip to try and maintain a serious expression as he led me over to the booth we'd just gotten out of just moments ago.

"Guess I'll have to make it up to you." He politely gestured as I sat down in the booth next to him.

This time, I curled up closely next to him and he noticed, his eyes on fire as he looked up into mine.

"Hope you don't think me forward." He mumbled, putting his arm around me.

"I don't." I draped my legs over his right knee, scooting closer to him.

He sharply inhaled as I hooked my legs over his lap. His eyes had a smile in them and he kissed my temple as he traced his fingers over my shoulder.

We were close, and it was the most natural thing that had ever been done, but butterflies the size of eagles flapped their wings in my stomach.

We were close enough to kiss again, but he didn't kiss me.

"Tell me something I need to know about you. As your date, I mean." He started, taking the arm that wasn't around me and curling his fingers around my thigh.

I shivered, and he started to retract his hand, but I put my hand on top of his in my lap.

He didn't look at me, but he smiled.

"I think you've heard enough about me." I chuckled.

"No, we barely know each other! What do you even do for work?" He asked, obviously acting like this would be if we were just normal people and this was a normal first date .

I rolled my eyes nonetheless.

"I'm in fashion. Trying to make it as a model, I guess." I humored him.

He enjoyed that I was playing along.

"Would I have seen you in anything?" He asked.

"Just a local commercial about allergy medication." I shrugged.

He laughed out loud, obviously not knowing I had a sense of humor. I bit my lip.

"Rosalie, you know you don't have to…" Emmett started on a more serious note now. "You know you don't have to… do anything to prove you're an adult."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" He cleared his throat, unwinding his arm from me. "I mean, you don't have to dress any certain way or take jobs… jobs you don't want or…"

I knew what he was getting at and I blushed, curling my shoulders and feeling embarrassed.

"But, obviously you look beautiful no matter what you're wearing or…. or not w-…" He nervously trailed off and it became apparent he had seen those pictures of me.

Of course he had, but he'd read into it and assumed I was just lashing out by posing so scandalously.

I mean, I was, but I didn't want it to appear that way to _him_.

"But, if that's what you want to do and you feel secure and…"

"I do." I breathed.

"Okay." He said, kissing my cheek and that was that.

He was ready to drop it, but I had one more thing to say on the subject.

"At first… I took those jobs for… for you." I admitted. "I wanted… I just wanted you to _see_ me, and not think I was just the scared, poor little rich girl you met two years ago."

"I don't." He said, his eyes sincere and on me. "I've never thought that."

"Okay." I responded with a relieved sigh, but still wasn't sure if I totally believed it.

"Because, I'm just meeting you, _right now_." He joked with a smile and I laughed lightheartedly.

"All right then." I smiled. "Clean slate."

"Clean slate." He agreed, his fingers tracing over my knee.

"You should know your dress is my very favorite color - green." He said so seriously that it amused me.

I was also giddy at learning his favorite color, like we were really starting fresh and creating a relationship now totally free of the weight and baggage of the odds that were stacked high against us.

"So you like it?" I asked, happily.

"I love it." He said with a grin. "You're a vision."

"Thank you." I smiled, sitting up straight.

He pulled me closer so he could kiss my forehead.

"I know yours is that purplish color of your eyes or those lavender French cookies you love." He said.

"Macaroons." I corrected with a giggle, blushing that he knew this about me when I hadn't outright ever told him.

He had just observed it.

"Macaroons." He repeated and grinned, those darling dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"My first concert was Guns N' Roses and I tried to grow my hair out when I was sixteen like Axl Rose, but it was too curly so I ended up looking more like Slash, but I didn't mind."

I laughed out loud, tossing my head back, not being able to remember the last time I'd laughed so hard.

"What was your first concert?" He asked.

"Iron Maiden." I said.

His eyes widened, obviously impressed.

"I don't remember it though because I was only a year old." I shrugged with a little laugh. "My mom was in Paris for a shoot, so my dad took me to visit her and she insisted on Iron Maiden tickets being a nice first birthday present for me because she really wanted to go."

I said, and Emmett chuckled.

"Do you still listen to Iron Maiden?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not really." I chuckled.

"I didn't peg you as a heavy metal fan, but hey…" He laughed. "Maybe since you were so intent on getting tickets for your birthday…"

I rolled my eyes.

"I really don't like birthday cake." Emmett went on to the next subject, intent on allowing us to continue getting to know things about each other. "I don't. That may seem blasphemous, but I just don't like it."

"Is it the cake or the icing you don't like?" I asked like it was the most serious thing we'd ever talked about.

"Both!" He exclaimed. "I just don't really have a sweet tooth."

I shook my head in disbelief, allowing another bubbling laugh.

"But, you _love_ sweets." He noted.

I did, and he'd noticed.

I got more and more confident the more we chatted. It was nice to talk about things without any underlying tension or meaning. It was nice to make this table the extent of our world - forgetting everything outside of us and only focusing on each other.

"Tell me something no one knows about you." I insisted, reveling in our closeness physically and now conversationally.

He made a face, thinking.

"Well, I don't know what to say." He puzzled "I'm not exactly a private person. If anyone wants to know anything about me, they can usually just ask."

This seemed to be true, but I still wanted the satisfaction of knowing him on a level deeper than anyone else.

"Will you tell me about what happened with your father in Cuba?" I asked, thinking of the one thing he hadn't been wanting to talk to me about a month ago.

"No." He answered swiftly, and I was not expecting that.

It wasn't harsh, it was just final.

His eyes softened though and he brushed through my hair with both of his hands.

"I don't…. I don't like talking about Cuba." He said, and the way his fingers left trails through my straightened hair was intensely intimate.

I hung on the moment, looking up at him with a lump in my throat.

"And, I don't like talking about my father. But, it doesn't mean I don't like you or trust you… I do. I… I _love_ you." Emmett said, and the words still made my heart jump.

They were still so new.

"I just… I don't like talking about Cuba, because I want to move on." He explained, his eyes looking over my face, but not meeting mine.

His fingers went through my hair again and again and I reveled in his touch.

"I'm still trying to be at home here." He said, nodding like he was not just telling me.

He was telling himself.

"I'm sorry." I said through a constricted throat.

"Don't be. There's no reason to be." He said with a little smile. "I just want to feel at home in America, and I know I won't ever feel that until I can move on."

His touch slowed, and the sheer intimacy of it made me shiver.

"You make me feel like I'm home." He breathed, and I could see in the way his eyes met mine that he wanted to kiss me.

"I'm glad." I said in a little nervous squeak.

"I want you to tell me you love me." Emmett said intensely, guiding my arms around his shoulders.

His eyes were fiery as I knotted my fingers in the curls of his hair so I could pull his forehead down to meet mine.

"I love you." I said on command, the most natural thing I'd ever said.

My breathing hitched at our proximity and my entire body trembled as my muscles weakened. He filled the air around me. I felt his presence in every cell of my body, and I yearned for a kiss just as much.

Even though I'd requested a do-over that allowed me to fully revel in his kiss, it allowed me the time to be earth shatteringly nervous. My mind was a jumbled mess and I panicked.

Like he could read my mind though, he took my face in his hands tenderly to steady me. I could've melted to the floor as I felt his breath on my lips.

"If I kiss you again, Rosalie, I want you to know what that means for me." Emmett said, pulling back and looking into my eyes like I was the only thing that had ever mattered.

It sent a shiver down my spine.

"Because if I kiss you again, I don't want to kiss _anyone_ else for as long as I live. I don't want another person on earth to look at me the way you're looking at me right now. I don't want to wake up and live in a world where I'm without you. I don't want to love anyone but you, _ever_. I can't." He said to me, pouring himself out as he looked over my face.

I couldn't even breathe at the intensity in his voice. Surely he understood the weight of his words. As I explored his eyes, I found only sincerity and true cognizance of what he had just said to me.

He had just asked for _forever_.

My heart thumped in my chest and I did an excavation of its contents. What was my heart really saying? Did I want this? At seventeen, I thought I'd have an inkling of doubt in promising someone forever, but I couldn't even begin to find a trace of hesitation. I knew with every fiber of my soul that he was meant to be mine, and I was meant to be his.

"Don't love anyone but me." I commanded him, twirling my fingers in his hair.

He nodded, accepting my demand.

"I won't love anyone but you." I promised, searching over his face as my words tried to seep into his ears.

It was a cosmic destiny, and in every past life my soul had found his. In this life, the journey and path had been a bit rocky, but it found his at last, and was certain. My soul recognized his from centuries past.

At the conception of the universe, our cells were drawn to each other. In the first millennia, his heart had found mine over and over and over and this time was no different.

We had spent thousands of years together, and I knew this with otherworldly confidence.

I felt it in my bones.

All I wanted to do was promise him the same - _forever._

"No matter what you decide an hour from now, a year from now, whenever - wherever you decide to go, whatever you decide to do, and whomever you decide to be with - I will always… _always_ , truly, completely, and madly love you." He went on, making my head spin.

But, the more it spun, the more clarity I found. I found more and more confidence, more and more sureness.

I just smiled, unable to help myself.

"I… I need you to know that I…I'm… I'm gonna give you everything I've got, Rosalie Hale." He swore this to me and I trusted him.

He said the most beautiful things that I'd ever heard in the most wonderful voice I'd ever heard.

"I'm not going to ask you for anything, just for - just for…"

"Listen… I love you. You love me, and this was the best first almost-date I could imagine. Are you going to kiss me or not?" I asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

I tightened my arms around his neck, and felt his arms tighten around me in response.

Dimples appeared on his cheeks as he smiled down at me, and I could've sworn we were the only two people on earth.

My heart raced in my chest and I vibrated with energy ready to be released in the nuclear explosion that was our kiss.

Then, he tucked my hair behind my ear, letting his eyes search my face. I knew now a kiss was coming when he ducked his head and desire for the feeling of his lips on mine lingered in the air as my eyes fluttered closed. After what felt like an eternity, he closed that last centimeter between us and touched his mouth to mine.

Electricity coursed through my veins from the origin point of our meeting lips when he kissed me. His kiss was gentle, cautious, and soft - still testing.

I couldn't even think, but on instinct, my lips parted for his.

It was the springtime, life crackling around me in the air, and the earth revolved around the axis point of our joined souls.

And, that was just the beginning…


	31. Bad Liar

_I LOVE YOU ALL! I was squealing reading these reviews, so thank you SO MUCH! Thank you new reviewers too! My heart is jumping!_

 _My birthday's tomorrow, so I thought I'd go ahead and post another chapter! Your reviews have been so lovely and such a gift!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Please enjoy this chapter in sequence with the previous one!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapper out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm also writing some background of Rosalie and Alice's friendship and what's going on back home, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 ** _Bad Liar – Selena Gomez_**

 _In my room there's a king size space_

 _Bigger than it used to be_

 _If you want you can rent that place_

 _Call me an amenity_

 _Even if it's in my dreams_

 _You're taking up a fraction of my mind_

 _Every time I watch you serpentine_

 _I'm tryin', I'm tryin'_

 _Not to give in to you_

 _With my feelings on fire_

 _Guess I'm a bad liar_

 _I see how your attention builds_

 _It's like looking in a mirror_

 _Your touch like a happy pill_

 _But still all we do is fear_

 _What could possibly happen next?_

 _Can we focus on the love?_

 _Paint my kiss across your chest_

 _If you're the art, I'll be the brush_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Secrets, Secrets, Are No Fun**

 _Five Years Ago; A Month After Mardi Gras_

"What are we going to do about this?" I asked, giggling up into the deep brown eyes that currently had my knees feeling like Jell-O.

"What do you mean?" His body got closer to me and my back hit the brick wall behind me. "I think what we're doing is just fine."

I exhaled at the impact and with his hands trailing down my neck, I found myself open mouthed and breathless. I closed my eyes and indulged in his proximity. I felt him against me all over the front of my body but I still wanted him closer.

"I… I…. Well…"

I felt my chest rising and falling rapidly and I willed my hands that were limp by my side to stop trembling. I wanted him and he wanted me too. I felt his breath on my lips, causing my knees to buckle.

"We have to decide what we're going to…"

He held me, his hands leaving trails of fire on my skin as he touched my face and neck.

"Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend?"He tilted my chin up gently with his fingertips giving me a teasing smile. "I can pass you a note and you can circle yes if you'd like."

He was making fun of me, and I pouted as I pulled away. His hands found mine and he brought them, trembling to his chest.

"Rosalie, listen." He said seriously. "I want you and only you. There's nothing to figure out about that for me. Nothing is changing for me."

His eyes were thoughtful and I caught the importance he put on what he was saying.

I'm sure he felt me shaking. I made fists on his chest, clenching the fabric of his shirt and pulling him even closer.

It was like a heavenly chorus of angelic perfection to hear those words from him.

The final few centimeters seemed to take an eternity for him to close, but when he touched his lips to mine, I melted into him.

It was magic. It was electric. My mind went numb and I moved on instinct.

He kissed me softly, and the light, sweet contact of his mouth on mine was enough to drive me insane. My skin tingled and my knees were weak.

I deepened the kiss hungrily, braiding my fingers into his hair. He responded to my greediness and his hands trailed to my lower back.

I shivered, feeling him against me as he smiled lightly against my lips. I pushed my body into his, breathing heavy.

My right leg lifted to latch around his hip and he picked me up under my thighs so both my legs were wrapped like vines around his waist. I gasped as he pressed my back into the wall and I felt my legs get light as he stood between them, my skirt falling behind me.

I wanted my skin to absorb him on a cellular level. Even as close as we were, I wanted him closer. I gripped him so hard my arms started to shake and his lips trailed from my mouth to my neck.

I was breathing heavily, my heart racing and my blood pumping like it never had before. I felt high. I tilted my head back as his lips found my collarbone, letting out a sigh full of bliss.

He placed a finger over my mouth with a little chuckle then returned his lips to mine.

His hands explored my body, and my hands explored his with instinctual familiarity. The intimacy between us was natural and wild and overwhelming. I arched my back, and he pushed away slowly.

He brushed my hair back from my face and kissed my forehead. My legs stayed wrapped around his waist and he returned his hands to under my legs.

"I want to take you out some time, Rosalie." He grinned. "Will you let me take you on a real date?"

I smiled like a silly little girl, my fingertips coming to my lips as I traced the outline of them.

I couldn't get used to the feeling of being kissed by him. It still lit me up with wildfire.

He was my first kiss and I wanted him to be my only and my last.

"I don't know…" I mumbled, trying to get back into reality. "I just… You know being… _public_ is going to be hard for us."

My breath stopped in my throat as I caught a sparkle in his eye.

"Rosalie, I love you. I could tell everyone in the world or never breathe a word to another soul. None of that would change _anything_ for me." He traced his fingertips over my lips now, looking at me in a way no one had ever looked at me, but I always wished someone would. "For me, it's just about _you_. It's whatever you want."

It sent shivers down my spine. I smiled in response.

I got distracted by the ecstasy of being close to him, and my head just pounded with the overwhelming notion that he wanted me.

I had craved this closeness with him for so long, for two years of knowing him… And now, he was holding me like I'd only once dreamt about.

I had to focus.

He said as his eyes danced quickly over my features and studied me like he'd never seen me before, and he was never going to see me again.

"I just… My dad is going to be home soon." I bit my lip, turning away.

"We still have some time." He laughed and kissed my lips as I latched on to him.

I ran my hands through his hair and deepened the kiss hungrily before I panicked at the sound of a car door closing not ten feet away from us on the curb.

I panicked, pulling out of Emmett's arms and smoothing my dress and hair to act natural.

Emmett snickered but also did the same, smoothing his shirt inconspicuously as we slightly emerged from the alley way like we'd just casually been chatting.

"Hey Princess!" My dad smiled happily, obviously completely unaware what his little princess was just busy doing.

I turned a bright scarlet, but I was a lot more relaxed now that my secret was still locked up tight.

"I didn't know you'd be home." He grinned. "And, Emmett! Fancy seeing you here. It's been a while!"

"It has." Emmett smiled, totally relaxed. "Maybe you've enjoyed winning a few poker games since I haven't been there."

Emmett teased and my dad laughed, totally relaxed.

"What are you doing here, other than just missing my good Scotch?" My dad clapped him on the shoulder.

I swallowed, tucking my hair behind my ear as I tried to act natural. Luckily, Emmett was much better at this sort of thing.

"I came to take a quick look at one of Rosalie's contracts."

Wow. He was so good at thinking on his feet.

It was quite impressive.

I kept my arms folded over my chest and my gaze down.

My dad nodded, totally sold on the story. Much easier than I thought.

"I can't believe Whitney didn't just send it over to you." My dad furrowed his brow.

Whitney was my assistant. I didn't think of that, but Emmett did.

"Rosalie had just mentioned it and I'm in the neighborhood now so I thought it'd just be as easy to stop by on my way home from work." Emmett shrugged.

"You're in the neighborhood now?" My dad asked.

"Well sort of; I just moved to Lexington and 72nd, so not too far." Emmett shrugged.

"Well, that's great! Congrats on your new place." My dad smiled, totally leaving the subject now.

I sighed in relief.

"Thank you so much. I really like it." Emmett smiled.

"I can't believe you've been living in the Bronx and commuting every day." My dad shook his head.

"I didn't mind it so much." Emmett shrugged. "I love the Bronx. It just made sense to live here now."

"I'd imagine so." My dad laughed.

Emmett was touchy about the Bronx. That was a very obvious part of his personality.

I loved watching him talk about it because he lit up, but I'd never even set foot in the borough.

"What am I doing, being so rude? We're about to have dinner. You should join us!" My dad was blissfully unaware.

Emmett's eyes darted over toward me.

"I shouldn't." He concluded.

He was right. He shouldn't.

"No! Please! I insist." My dad patted him on the back, encouraging him along.

I was mortified and nervous. I didn't know if I could do this.

The elevator attendant opened the door for us and the three of us climbed in to the enclosed space.

My dad was busy jabbering, but standing in such close quarters with Emmett and not being able to touch him was driving me crazy.

My skin craved him again. My fingers wanted to learn more of the planes in his back. My lips wanted to be kissed again.

It was so distracting.

I blinked away the fantasy going on in my head, and the elevator door opened up to our bright, smartly decorated penthouse apartment.

As we left the elevator, Emmett brushed his fingers along mine on purpose and I blushed lightly, biting onto my bottom lip.

A dimple appeared on his cheek as he smirked.

This was going to be a long night.

He'd been to my house a million times before, but he still looked around as we walked through the foyer.

His eyes focused on a picture of me as a little girl with my dad in Hawaii and he smiled with amusement.

"Look at that million dollar smile." He teased, noting the gap where my baby front teeth had recently fallen out, but also the sheer joy in my face.

"Rosalie's always been the prettiest little thing." My father raved annoyingly.

I flushed red and rolled my eyes.

"Rosalie!" My stepmother chirped, throwing her arms around my shoulders even though I'd repeatedly requested her not to.

I froze, my muscles frigid to let her know I wanted her to back off immediately.

Edward was sulking about his job no doubt, but managed to give me a smile.

Emmett immediately walked to the kitchen and gave our chef Roberta a kiss on the cheek, whom he had made fast friends with of course - because he was the kind of person who never met a stranger and could make someone a life-long friend in just minutes - and they had an animated conversation in Spanish.

I didn't even know where she was from or anything about her life. I'd never bothered to ask, and she'd been our family's chef since I was twelve.

Watching him laugh from afar made me weak at the knees and I had to actively fight the gravitational pull toward him as I tried to pay attention to the conversation with my dad, Elizabeth, and Edward.

Our chef Roberta had made salmon with almond and parsley salsa and it smelled amazing, but as we sat down at the table I still just picked at my food.

"You can eat this right? I don't know anything about Catholicism and your fasting and all that." My dad was referring to Lent.

"Sorry sweetie, I'm trying." He chuckled.

He really did try for me and had even come to my Confirmation. He thought he would burn alive in a church, but he did fine. I smiled.

I was just nervous, with Emmett on my left, my dad sitting at the head of the table on my right, Elizabeth right across from me, and Edward next to her.

Emmett had stayed for dinner countless times. He'd sat next to me countless times. There was nothing abnormal about this from the outside, but on the inside I was about to explode with the weight of what was new between us.

With every brush of his fingertips along my thigh under the table, every winding of my ankle around his, and every time we let our eyes linger in each other's in surface-level conversation, I grew closer and closer to wanting to scream.

I had been a reserved, private, and secretive person my entire life. It was nothing new for me to be keeping things from my father, or from everyone else around me, but for the very first time, I wanted to shatter the shell of protection around me and expose my heart and soul to the universe. I wanted nothing more than to openly and vulnerably love Emmett with no holds barred.

I wanted to be unhindered. I wanted to be a part of him so apparently that we began to look like one person to even strangers that passed us on the street.

He seemed to read my mind and agree with my sentiments as his fingers twirled through mine under the table.

I bit my lip and looked down at my plate.

"So Rosalie…" My dad began, clearing his throat like he always did when he wanted to talk about something difficult with me.

My eyes shot up, and Emmett's fingers recoiled from mine. I made it obvious that I was empty handed as my left hand came atop the table now.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." My dad kept his eyes down as he twirled his fork over his plate.

I waited.

"So, Frida called from Gucci." He began.

"I'm still on the books for Friday at 9 a.m.?" I asked, confirming a fitting for a shoot I had coming up.

Elizabeth hated when we talked about work at the table, but it was just a part of living with my dad being a manager of me like he was.

"Yes. But, they also want you to be a part of the UNICEF charity event next month." He expanded, and his face was easy to read that there was more and that was the part I wasn't going to like.

"Okay. And?…" I pushed him to expand.

"Well, it's a Charity Date Auction." He said sourly.

"Absolutely not." I said with finality for more reasons than one, and I felt myself go cold.

"Why not?" Elizabeth asked with an annoying grin. "They're really fun!"

I shook my head.

"I did one in college with my sorority. It was actually really…" Elizabeth went on.

"I said _no_." I said icily, shooting her a punishing glare.

"Rosalie… It's not anything serious. You'll probably end up at Kurumazushi with Giorgio Armani or Marc Jacobs just for fun since you're so young." My father tried to dismiss.

While that would most likely be true and I would probably enjoy myself at dinner with them, I couldn't do it. I didn't want to.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm not doing that." I shook my head again, sitting my fork down with a clang.

"Rose, you have _got_ to do some charity work and… and your mother arranged this for you." My dad said, providing a very strong point.

I winced at the mention of her, pouting sourly.

"That's part of your job - part of being a public figure. You have to use some that to _help_ people. I'm sure you just saw those articles about you being 'America's Princess.' That's a good thing if you think about it like Princess Diana. That just means you have to help people and get photographed doing it." He redirected.

I knew the article was really just referring to my privilege and how everyone thought I was a spoiled brat because I had on a $10,000 coat last week.

It's not that big of a deal…

"You have to balance the news cycles, Rosalie. I know it's hard work, but you have to think about wearing the latest designers _and_ kissing babies or something. You do so much good sweetheart, but the march was over two months ago. The public is stupid. They need to be reminded, and often."

I didn't need to be lectured on keeping my image, and I didn't need to be treated like a child… I clenched my jaw resolutely.

"I'm sure Caryl Stern would take a meeting with you." Emmett said, keeping his eyes down while he spoke, adding to the conversation as he sensed my frustration. "She'd love to help you out with ideas for some more hands-on activism about the global refugee crisis that aren't so… _objectifying_ and degradingly sexist."

Caryl Stern was the UNICEF USA President and CEO. I knew he'd worked with her and had spent a few weeks in Ghana last year and Haiti the year before that. Of course he probably considered her a friend, and of course she probably adored him too.

I stared at him open-mouthed, and everyone else did too.

Edward was the first to laugh and break the silence, and Emmett laughed too, the dimples appearing on his cheeks making me weak that the knees.

"Well, when you put it that way…" My dad shrugged with a chuckle.

Emmett didn't apologize for his opinion and I adored that about him. I also adored him siding with me. It was incredibly attractive.

"So, Emmett, is it too much to ask if I can send my daughter with you to a third world country this summer?" My dad asked Emmett, obviously hellbent on getting me to do something philanthropic or helpful.

Emmett didn't fully laugh like the rest of the room this time, but just chuckled as he shrugged.

He didn't respond.

I mean, how did you respond to that?

"Dad…" I scolded, my cheeks flushing.

"I don't think it's a bad idea." He defended himself. "He could babysit you and make sure you actually do something productive and also so you don't get kidnapped or anything."

"Dad!" I narrowed my eyes.

Now, Emmett laughed.

"It's not third world, if that's really a strict qualification, but I'll be in Bangladesh in June." Emmett said casually. "She's welcome to tag along."

I shot him a look.

Then, I thought… Maybe this was the most brilliant thing he'd ever said. This was a way for us to spend time together.

"Bangladesh? Is that… safe?" My dad asked.

"Yeah, I mean… They're pretty hospitable people." Emmett furrowed his brow, but chuckled darkly. "But, I wouldn't suggest that she be running around alone at night if she doesn't know at least a little Bengali."

I didn't protest, and I chewed on my bottom lip.

"I don't think you picked up any Bengali at hot yoga class this week." Edward teased, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

He laughed.

"I'm sure Caryl would love to have her. There's a group of women that lead an empowerment class at the refugee camp that she would be able to help with while I work on legal and…" Emmett tried not to sound to eager to whisk me off to Bangladesh, but… I knew it wasn't just out of the goodness of his heart he wanted me to go and help out.

"Rosalie's never going to survive at a refugee camp." Edward snorted, but was good humored mostly and I narrowed my eyes.

"Rosalie, would you go?" Elizabeth asked in anticipation.

I shot my eyes down, trying not to be too eager.

I shrugged.

"I guess." I said, trying almost too hard to hide the emotion in my voice.

"You know Emmett, it's really something what you do for people. There needs to be more men like you in this world." My dad said, leaning forward on his elbows.

He housed so much respect for Emmett that I wondered if he'd actually support what we were doing…

I quickly squashed the thought.

"Remember that when you get older and start actually wanting to take some dates that aren't bid on, Rosalie." Elizabeth smiled at me and I narrowed my eyes.

She spoke as if it was unimaginable for me and Emmett ever to be together. I should just settle for someone _like_ him because a relationship between us was just absolutely unattainable.

I mean… _it was_.

What were we doing?

Could this even work?

Were we being ridiculous?

My jaw clenched and I noticed I had balled my hands into fists.

"Rosalie looks like she's going to explode and splatter all over the walls if we don't stop talking about her dating." Edward redirected, and oh how I was thankful for him.

I gave him a small smile.

"Yeah, let's talk about _your_ love life, Edward." Elizabeth teased.

Edward groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Can we please save all the awkward conversations about getting married, and grandchildren, and career paths for Thanksgiving or Christmas when Aunt Elaine is here?" Edward said. "I think she's cornered the market for intrusive conversation."

Emmett laughed fully, and I couldn't fight the smile spreading across my face.

What we were doing was falling in love a little more every moment. This would work, and we weren't being ridiculous. It was crazy and irrational, but it was love.

Luckily, the conversation was left and I only just had to focus on nodding every so often to small talk, and making it look like I was eating every so often.

Focusing was becoming harder and harder to do with Emmett's hand getting higher and higher up my skirt.

I squirmed and he smirked, his dimples showing as he kept his focus down at his plate thanking his lucky stars that he was left handed and could look inconspicuous holding his fork while his right hand climbed my inner thigh.

My skin tingled as he touched me as no one ever had, _slow,_ and gently.

I opened my knees slightly, instinctually for him and only him, and I gulped, trying to focus on Edward explaining some sort of engineering concept he was hard at work on at his job.

My legs snapped closed the second Emmett's fingers found lace and I shot to stand from the table.

"Can I be excused?" I squeaked.

"You haven't touched your food." Elizabeth furrowed her brow and Edward looked at me like I'd grown another three heads for interrupting him.

Emmett kept his gaze down, but the tiny glance I'd allowed myself had my face turning bright scarlet.

"I'm not hungry." I swallowed, turning on my heel despite her protest.

"Rosalie, you don't have to eat but please come back and socialize with us dear." My father grabbed onto my wrist lightly.

My gaze found his and I centered myself, trying to remember how to act like a civilized sociable person.

"I just need to freshen up." I said, giving myself a break at least.

"Okay, sweetheart." He agreed and I skittered to the restroom on the hallway.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, I turned on the sink as high as it could go so I could press my back to the door and close my eyes, letting out an unbridled sigh of relief at the mental and physical recess I had from the gravitational attraction that I was suffering being this close to Emmett.

I chewed on my bottom lip, as I opened my eyes then stood on shaky legs in front of the mirror to look at myself.

I'd started dressing like myself again so the skirt of my robin egg blue dress came to right below my knees. It had chic embroidered flowers and a tulle overlay that turned into long sleeves so it was really a beautiful dress - but it was far from _sexy_.

But, I had obviously and visibly changed. I was a _woman_.

I looked at myself again and again in the mirror, seeing the heat of blush on my porcelain icy skin that was a bold sign of my desire for the forbidden. There was no hiding it. It was plain as day. There was no use trying to conceal the new color on my cheeks.

I gripped the corner of the sink. Was it hot in here?

I touched some cold water to my neck, exhaling as I thought about him touching me under the table.

I closed my eyes, turning off the sink as I tried to get it together to go back into public and attempt to act normal.

No sooner had I opened the door, than I was whisked back inside with a hand over my mouth.

Then, Emmett crushed his lips to mine.

"I could barely contain myself with that look on your face…" He growled and I hushed him frantically, but wasn't convinced I wasn't totally conjuring this fantasy in my mind. "God, Rosalie, tell me you want me like I want you."

"Em, we can't." I protested halfheartedly as his hands on me turned me into putty, but I clicked on the sink again to drown out our sound.

No, this was real. This was not just in my head. I wasn't this imaginative.

"Please, Rose." He begged, lifting under my thighs so I was even with his waist and instinctually I wrapped around him.

I couldn't resist him and I got hypnotized by his kisses.

He sat me on the counter, standing between my legs.

I felt drunk as I leaned into him, desperate for more of his touch. Then, he imitated himself from minutes before and his hand climbed up my skirt on a mission.

My knees opened for him, and I gasped as his fingers found lace again.

He quieted me with a kiss, and I trembled in a mixture of fear and anticipation.

He kissed me passionately, obviously intent on keeping me quiet as I sighed with pleasure against his mouth.

My mind was a jumbled mess, and I couldn't think about anything but him as he pulled me forward on the counter, hiking my skirt up around my waist.

My knees buckled almost immediately as his lips found my inner thigh and his hands found the hem of my underwear.

"I can't." I breathed, basically falling into his waiting arms.

"Rose…" He said, his voice tainted with dramatized disappointment.

"I _can't_." I said breathily, feeling like I was going to pass out as he met me on the floor.

He kissed my lips sweetly, much differently than he'd hungrily kissed me just moments ago.

"Another time, then." His eyes sparkled with naughty possibility and I could barely keep myself from just screaming.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

I was too intoxicated to hold myself up any longer and my knees were still trembling.

He chuckled victoriously.

"I wasn't finished." He said, kissing my forehead. "But, you have to go back first. I was sent to pick out a bottle of Scotch so I can't come back empty handed."

I nodded, disoriented as I was ripped down from my high and forced to consider my surroundings and the impending doom of walking back into the room with my father knowing how a man had just touched me and how I wanted him to _keep_ touching me.

It was awful. It was tragically terrible.

"Why are you pouting?" Emmett asked me, kissing my lips that I'd subconsciously pouted in thought.

"I don't know if I can stand up." I complained about the consistency of my wobbly Jell-O knees as he grinned and helped me to my feet, kissing the end of my nose playfully.

His eyes sparkled like I'd never seen them sparkle before, and I saw how happy I'd just made him. It made me want to give him my entire body, my entire soul, my entire mind, everything I had and just keep on giving it to him.

I was like a junkie for that look on his face and I wanted more of it, even as I looked at it in front of me now. How much could I give until I had nothing left?

"Okay, you first." He said, smoothing his hair in the mirror, turning off the sink, and tucking his shirt in more freshly.

His eyes danced over my body as I put my hand on the doorknob.

I shivered at the thought of him knowing my body as no one else knew it. I loved that he knew it better than he did this morning. It made me… It made me _happy_.

"Wait," I said, turning around and crushing my lips to his.

He smiled against my mouth, pressing my back into the door as his lips moved with mine, gently for only a second before it was ravenous and frantic. His grip on my upper arms made me feel secure and he sighed happily as I kissed down his neck.

After we'd spent too long denying reality, he pushed me away resolutely, and I caught him adjusting his pants as I turned over my shoulder. I bit my bottom lip, darting my eyes down as I slipped out of the bathroom door and a quick flush came to my cheeks.

My eyes scanned over the scene for a quick moment before I knew with utmost confidence that the coast was clear and I returned to the dining room.

I still blushed wildly when I saw my father, Elizabeth, and Edward, but ultimately I remained cool, calm, and collected as I sat down at my place at the table and they remained none the wiser.

"Do you feel better?" Elizabeth asked me.

Immediately, my eyes went wide as I shot her a painful glare.

"What?!"

"Rosalie." My father scolded my brash response.

"Sorry, I just… yes." I cleared my throat, afraid to offer too much information.

 _Obviously_ , I felt better. I knew it was naive to think, but I felt like a woman. I felt like a different person than when I'd first left the table, but they obviously could not know that.

"Rosalie… I just… I want you to know that I know…. I know what you were doing and if you need to talk… I'd… I'd really like to help you." Elizabeth began tenderly.

I panicked.

My father kept his eyes down.

"I heard you turn the sink on and keep it running. That was my trick too." Elizabeth began.

My jaw dropped and my mind raced.

"If you feel like you need to… to throw up after you eat, that can be something we talk about." Elizabeth went on.

I couldn't help the nervous giggling that pushed through my throat. She thought I was bulimic instead of what I was really doing. Thank God. I sighed with relief.

"What designer told you to lose weight? I'll have a word with them." My father started. "You're already 10 pounds thinner than your normal weight."

My giggling turned maniacal, but I had to get a hold on myself to sell the story, so I covered my face with my hands, masking it as a few empty tears.

"Rosalie, we can get you through this." Elizabeth reached for me in comfort and I faked wiping tears from my eyes as I looked back up to them.

I saw Emmett paused with a bottle of Scotch in his hand, his eyes wide from the corner since he had no idea what he was walking into.

I almost burst into laughter again, so I covered my face to fake another few tears.

Emmett didn't take another step into the room, his eyes wide with questions.

"It was the first time I'd ever done it." I said, and I thought Emmett was going to pass out with how white and pale his face was.

Then, I knew how my words had a double meaning for him and I almost started laughing again so I tried another phrase.

"Trying to make myself throw up, I mean." I said. "Elizabeth, you're right. That's _exactly_ why the sink was on. I am worried about my weight because of Olga Sherer's VOGUE Portugal spread."

"That's not even your market space, Rosalie. She doesn't have your look. Don't try and compete with her." My father insisted.

Emmett rolled his eyes at me from the corner, dramatizing his sigh before he entered the room like he hadn't heard anything.

Roberta cleared our plates and brought out glasses for drinks.

Emmett sat down on my other side and I couldn't help but start to laugh so I tried to disguise it.

"Rosalie, this is not a joke." My dad noticed I was actually laughing.

"I know it isn't." I cleared my throat.

"This is really serious. I've never wanted you to feel trapped into… into feeling like you have to do that." My father said, reaching for the bottle Emmett had chosen.

"Excellent choice." He launched into a sidebar conversation about Emmett's alcohol selection.

Emmett smiled smugly.

I watched Emmett and my dad bond over alcohol, and it made me uneasy and unsettled.

"Will you at least agree to talk to Elizabeth about this?" My dad began. "I know Elizabeth has personal experience and would really appreciate the opportunity to talk with you, Rosalie and…"

"I'll be in Paris in two weeks. I'll talk to Mom." I mumbled, hating that now my mother was a part of this conversation, but at least it gave me the opportunity to never bring this up again.

"Rosalie, your mother…" My dad began, but I didn't want to hear it.

I really wanted to leave this conversation now, knowing my dad had plenty of hate to spew about her.

"Can you please just give me a break and bug Edward about something now?" I asked.

The table laughed lightly and agreed.

That's when I saw the lipstick on Emmett's collar that was undoubtedly my own, my signature rosy pink color. I covered my mouth immediately, trying to remain absolutely and totally removed as I listened to them talk about how special this Scotch was and blah blah blah as I tried to figure out what to do about this.

Maybe no one would notice?

I bounced my knees nervously and Emmett's hand found my thigh under the table.

How long could we keep this up? At this rate, not another second!


	32. Trouble

_I LOVE YOU ALL! I was squealing reading these reviews, so thank you SO MUCH! Thank you ALL MY NEW REVIEWERS AND READERS too! My heart is jumping!_

 _My birthday was yesterday and I was so gifted with your kind reviews, so I thought I'd go ahead and post another chapter! Your reviews have been so lovely and such a gift!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm writing some things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **Trouble - Coldplay**

 _Oh no, I see  
A spider web is tangled up with me  
And I lost my head  
And thought of all the stupid things I'd said_

 _Oh no, what's this?_  
 _A spider web and I'm caught in the middle_  
 _So I turned to run_  
 _And thought of all the stupid things I'd done_

 _And I, I never meant to cause you trouble_  
 _And I, I never meant to do you wrong_  
 _And I, well if I ever caused you trouble_  
 _And oh no, I never meant to do you no harm_

* * *

 **Alice: Old Hollywood**

 _ **7 Years Ago; First Interview with Rosalie Hale**_

I waited on the couch nervously. The Hale's housekeeper had given me a cup of tea while I waited and I noticed the cup vibrating in my hand.

This was the biggest interview of my entire life. I flipped through my notes in my mind, trying to collect my thoughts before we got started.

I barely heard her footsteps on the hardwood until Rosalie Hale was already standing in front of me in all of her unbelievable perfection. How did someone like her exist?

She had materialized like a spirit before me, so I almost didn't believe she was real.

I stood up as she entered the room, immediately feeling her presence fill the air. She had a very reserved air about her, and her pale white skin looked like porcelain and painted into a calm, collected expression that seemed never to crack. But even in her angelic serenity, her presence commanded attention in both an overwhelming and understated way.

She was even taller than I'd imagined. I mean obviously, she was a supermodel. But, she was statuesque and unrealistically beautiful as she stood in front of me in a jet black shirt that buttoned up the front and had a high, modest turtleneck. Rosalie wore a high-waisted ankle length flowing skirt in a ballerina pink with Prada black leather loafers.

Her style was extremely mature for her exceptionally young sixteen years.

It was overwhelmingly _modest,_ almost Victorian. She also seemed to be unaware it was 91 degrees outside in August.

The only skin she showed were her ankles and her hands; then she crossed her arms over her chest to hide her hands to signal she wasn't going to offer her hand to me as she introduced herself.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to this. I'm Alice Branden with VOGUE." I said nervously, noticing my voice vibrating.

"Of course. Please sit." She spoke in a velvety, fluid tone.

She enunciated her words like a golden-age Hollywood actress, but her voice was a little more Disney Princess sounding like Lana Turner's. I had to write that detail. Her voice sounded shockingly like Lana Turner's and she even had a openness to her wide purple eyes and pouty bottom lip that recalled that stunning Hollywood beauty of decades past.

I had to write that too.

She was bringing golden age Hollywood back.

"Thank you." I exhaled as I sat down, trying not to get mesmerized too obviously by her purple eyes.

Very Elizabeth Taylor.

I'd seen Rosalie's striking violet eyes plenty of times in print, but it was so odd and captivating in person. I allowed myself another look, but she was looking at the floor, twisting her hands together as she sat down in a chair across from me.

I couldn't help but think… Maybe she was as nervous as I was.

No, I dismissed the thought quickly. She was no mere mortal.

"I'm sorry. I'm very nervous." Rosalie's voice was breathy and airy as she bit her pouty rosy bottom lip.

I sighed in relief.

"Oh, no need to be nervous!" I tried to assure her.

This was the biggest interview of my life. _Everyone_ wanted this interview. Rosalie Hale had just won her rape case, and the ruling in that case would change future workplace sexual harassment and assault cases across the globe _forever._ Rosalie Hale inadvertently just became a feminist icon for our generation.

As she sat across from me, I couldn't help but think about how history was happening _right now_ in the room with me.

Going through college, my parents were pushing me to be a Martha Gellhorn (without the Hemingway affair of course) and be a war correspondent, a novelist, and a "hard news" journalist, but I'd always had a passion for the fashion industry and couldn't shake the feeling I was meant to write about it.

As Rosalie Hale, the American fashion princess and mouthpiece for the new generation of working women sat in front of me prepared to share her story of survival and resilience in the face of sexual assault, I couldn't help but feel adrenaline coursing through my veins.

This was hard news and fashion and I was chosen to report on it. She chose _me_ to talk to. Not CNN or Good Morning America or the New York Times or NPR or NBC or CBS or AP or BuzzFeed.

She chose _me_ with online VOGUE.

I wondered why, but didn't want to push too harshly.

"Honestly, I'm so nervous I can't even remember what this interview's supposed to be about." I admitted.

She gave a small, sparkling smile.

"I don't mind that one bit." Rosalie's eyes met mine. "Why don't we just have a little chat to get started, then we'll remember?"

Immediately, I felt more comfortable and I giggled a little to release my nerves.

"That sounds perfectly good to me." I agreed.

"Lovely." Rosalie smiled. "But, it's off the record of course."

"Of course." I exhaled.

"Can I trust you on that?" Rosalie asked, something in her eyes overwhelmingly serious.

"You can trust me." I said genuinely.

* * *

 _5 Years Ago; Friday after Mardi Gras_

"Rosalie Devereux Hale!" I spoke her full name in apparent teasing and scolding as soon as she rounded the corner.

There was color on her cheeks and vibrancy in those violet eyes, but her youthful bliss and naivety was still astounding.

I still couldn't believe what I'd seen. Had my eyes deceived me? Honestly, it would be more believable to say I'd hallucinated the whole thing.

But no, I saw in her eyes that she was a girl that had been kissed, and by someone that really knew how to kiss her.

"Shhh…." She bit her bottom lip, grabbed my hand and lead me up the stairs like we were a bunch of school girls ready to tell secrets.

My heart raced in my chest in such a stupid, sprightly way and I couldn't help but giggle as I bounced behind her.

"Lucy's got some 'splainin to do." I raised an eyebrow as she shut the door to her bedroom.

"Alice." She breathed, looking to me with wide eyes and an odd smile.

I pursed my lips, jumping to sit in the center of her bed, crossing my legs underneath me.

She paced the floor, putting her hands together over her mouth before jumping onto the bed with me and sitting on her knees.

"He _kissed_ me, Alice." Rosalie said in a breathy tone that sounded like she was singing those words.

It was dreamy, like a Disney Princess that was about to burst into song with little woodland animals all around her.

Rosalie Hale spoke without a care in the world except for her volume and secrecy.

Her eyes flickered with fire. I couldn't look away if I'd tried.

"I got that part." I chuckled.

Her cheeks flushed a light scarlet and she brushed her fingertips along her bottom lip as if she were feeling it all overagain.

She looked down to her lap, twirling her fingers nervously before she looked back up at me.

"What all were you there for?" Rosalie asked.

"Well," I sat back on my hands. "He told you he loved you, he kissed you, then you smacked him across the face…"

My tone wasn't accusing, just stating the facts, but she blushed nonetheless.

"Jasper and I thought that was our cue to let you figure some things out." I winked with a giggle.

"I _love_ him, Alice." Rosalie said with finality and sincerity.

The certainty in her eyes was absolutely breathtaking. Never had anything more convicting ever been spoken.

Even after what I'd witnessed, it still shocked me to hear her say the words out loud.

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my cheeks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?!" She asked, her violet eyes widening.

"I just can't believe it." I shook my head.

This obviously disappointed her, and she put her hand on my knee.

"Why?" She interrogated me seriously.

Her purple eyes were vast, her bottom lip pouted, and her forehead crinkled with worry.

"No, I just mean, that… that's _wild_." I couldn't think of a better word.

She waited.

"Rosalie, what do you want me to say?" I prompted, feeling like a terrible friend because I really just wanted to read how she wanted me to react but also be honest with her.

"Tell me you're happy for me." Rosalie sighed, putting her hands on her hips in a way that made her look like a pouting child.

"I _am_ happy for you, Rosalie." I said with a genuine grin.

"Well, you aren't acting like it." She accused.

"I've just got whiplash is all!" I tried to remain lighthearted and took her hands so she'd know I was serious. "It took me by surprise."

Something in my stomach was still uneasy and I couldn't put my finger on it.

"So how did this happen in the first place?" I redirected.

Rosalie retracted her hands from mine, but didn't seem to alarmed that I'd changed the subject.

"Well, it was just… We've known each other for a couple years. We spend a lot of time together…." Rosalie said, justifying herself it seemed.

"It just happened all at once." Rosalie mumbled.

Emmett was an A+ guy, but he was still a guy, and Rosalie was still naive and full of hope and innocence.

And, I wanted to protect her…

I'd never seen Emmett take _anything_ seriously, though I knew he could when he wanted to, but it scared me that she seemed unaware of his dating patterns. Or, if she was aware, she was stupidly dismissing it.

He was a notorious womanizer, and I didn't know if she could handle a past like that…

"So… have you talked about what you're going to do?" I asked like I was asking her about a plan for a terminal disease. "I mean, are you dating? Is it not anything serious? Have you talked about moving forward?"

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head.

She looked immensely broken-hearted and I sighed. No doubt she wanted to jump up and down and squeal with her best friend like I had done at her age about any guy I had a crush on that would pass by me in the hallways at school.

Rosalie was just seventeen years old. She was so young that there was so much that she was just blindly excited by in the love department because of its freshness to her. I shouldn't be so cynical and judgmental.

When did I turn into this person?

I believed in love!

"You have time." I shrugged, trying to backtrack and act like she'd wanted me to.

Honestly, it wasn't just about what she wanted. It was about what she needed. She needed a friend right now. She needed someone to squeal with and draw hearts on notebooks with.

Their relationship made no sense to me, but… It wasn't supposed to make sense to me. It made sense to them and that's what matters.

"But, I saw the way he was looking at you that whole night." I tried to rave. "I've known him for years and I'd never seen that look. I knew there was something brewing!"

I was still being honest, so I wasn't betraying my own conviction to be nice.

"Really?" Rosalie lit up like a Christmas tree, her face beaming at the mention of his enchantment with her.

"Really!" I smiled back at her.

"Alice…" She took my hands seriously, her purple eyes melting into mine.

"What's up?" I pressed.

"Tell me it's going to work." Rosalie's voice was tense and serious.

"Tell me you think this is going to work." She begged me hopefully.

I looked down at her hands in mine, unable to form the words in my mouth.

"Alice…" She begged. "Tell me it's going to work."

My gaze met hers and I saw the desperation in her eyes.

I gulped.

Her eyes were locked into mine with unmatched intensity, and I couldn't break the iron tethers that kept my eyes in hers.

I couldn't make the words come off my tongue.

"Lie to me then." She whispered, her bottom lip trembling in desperation.

"Please, Alice. Lie to me and tell me it's going to work out between us."

I swallowed, then finally, something deep within me was able to say: _It's going to work out._

But, the thing is, it didn't feel like a lie.

* * *

 _5 Years Ago; December_

"Okay, we have to focus." Rosalie giggled, and Emmett groaned before he kissed her six more quick times.

"Come on, I'm on the clock." I tapped my watch, but was really just as lighthearted. "I'm supposed to be working."

"How do I look?" Rosalie smoothed her hair over her shoulder, asking me but Emmett's the one who commented.

"Like a dream." He said, kissing her again and she giggled, before tossing her legs around his waist as he spun her in a circle.

"Oh to be newlyweds." The camera guy, Al snickered.

"It wouldn't surprise me if they were like this in fifty years." I rolled my eyes in good humor.

"Wouldn't that be something?" Emmett grinned at Rosalie before setting her down on her feet reluctantly.

"It would." Rosalie tried unsuccessfully to get her lipstick off of him.

"Here." I said, handing him a Neutrogena make-up wipe.

"Will this make me look like _the_ supermodel, Rosalie Hale?" Emmett mocked and teased. "I'll take fifty boxes."

"You really should think about a cosmetics line. You don't need makeup but people don't know that so they'd buy dirt if you told them it was a face mask." I noted to myself and aloud to Rosalie.

Rosalie scoffed and rolled her eyes modestly with a little smile as she got the lipstick off Emmett's chin and touched up her own.

"Really, Alice, how do I look?"

"Perfect!" I said impatiently. "Now, please. We have 73 questions to get through."

"73?!" Emmett asked with wide eyes.

"Yes, Emmett, that's the name of the segment, _73 questions_." I tossed my hands up.

"Okay, okay, I'm ready now." Rosalie sighed, taking a swift look in the mirror.

"Okay, places people, places." I called, clapping my hands.

Rosalie bounced excitedly.

This was far from her first interview, but the relaxed energy of this one was probably new for her.

I smiled.

"Okay, here goes nothing." I said, then the camera guy and I exited the front door.

I heard Rosalie giggling from behind the door.

"Emmett, go where you're supposed to be, _now_ please." I groaned, and shook my head.

Al and I exchanged a look.

"Okay. Seriously this time." Rosalie sighed. "Ready."

"Alright. Just like you practiced." I prompted. "If you forget a mark, just keep moving. We just need it to look natural. Day in the life type stuff."

"Got it." I heard her say.

"Okay, here goes nothing." I looked over at Al and we got started with a 3, 2, 1.

Rosalie was a natural in front of the camera of course, but she also wasn't _herself_ in front of the camera. I know it was her job to be an icon and not a human being, but I thought this segment would be a great way to show people the human side of her.

As Al got rolling and followed over my shoulder, we opened the door.

"Rosalie!" Al began.

"Bonjour." She smiled a dazzling smile as she opened the door to her gorgeous, recently renovated apartment on the Upper East.

She had also recently hired someone to decorate it for Christmas so it looked like it was straight out of a magazine.

The light in her hair from the window made her look like an angel.

"Thanks for fitting 73 questions into your busy schedule."

"Of course." She smiled a dazzling smile as she welcomed him in.

"Let's get started."

"Okay! Let's do it." She grinned.

"What's your favorite thing about New York?" Al asked.

"Creativity is in the air." Rosalie answered swiftly.

"What's your least favorite thing about New York?"

"It's not Paris." She sat down on the new couch next to the fireplace and Al and I sat across from her.

"Would you ever move to Paris?"

"No. I love New York too much." She smiled a perfect, sweet smile and folded her hands.

She needed to loosen up. I willed her to take my mental direction as the next couple questions were easy and removed so there was no real substance.

"What's your secret to a killer photograph?"

"Good lighting and confidence."

"Favorite designer?"

"My father." She smiled.

"Your favorite thing in your closet."

"Mmm, that's tough. Probably my custom Birkin or my grandmother's first Chanel LBD."

"What is your go-to look?"

"Head to toe, all black." She nodded, gesturing to her all-black chic ensemble.

"What's your beauty philosophy?"

"When in doubt, keep it classic and timeless."

I pinched Al to signal he needed to pull from a different question pool.

"What's the best thing to happen to you this year?"

"Well, I got married." She showed off her stunning Harry Winston and wiggled her fingers to the camera.

"What's the best thing to happen to you this month?"

"Mmm, redesigning this apartment."

"Beautiful apartment by the way. How long have you lived here?"

"Since November 5th." Rosalie stood after we did recognizing the mark to shift locations.

"What's the best part about living here?"

"My husband." She absolutely lit up and I'd swear she was brighter than the lights on that huge Christmas tree.

"Your husband is Emmett McCarty. What's something people don't know about him?"

Rosalie pouted her lips and stopped on the next mark and looked up as she seemed to think.

"He's a pretty open book. I'd say everyone that meets him knows him." Rosalie said, staying vague. "But, most people wouldn't know that when he sleep talks, it's in Spanish."

She blushed at mentioning she slept in the same bed as her husband. She was such a naive baby…

"What's your favorite Spanish word that he's taught you?" Al didn't even flinch because we were grown adults.

"Siempre." She answered beautifully.

"What does it mean?"

"Always." She recalled.

"What makes you laugh?"

"My husband." She lit up with another bright smile.

"What's the last movie you watched that made you laugh?"

"I can't remember the last movie I watched. I don't really stay still long enough to watch very many."

"You're a busy girl. What's keeping you busy these days?" Al asked.

"Can I also say my husband without sounding tactless?…" She blushed, and darted her eyes down, but she had chosen her words because she looked innocently back up through her thick black eyelashes.

"I'm the one asking the questions!" Al protested jokingly.

I put a hand over my face, but smiled before going back to directing.

"Sorry." She bit her perfect bottom lip as she turned over her shoulder, and tossed her golden blonde hair back.

"Speaking of your husband," Al started as Emmett scooped Rosalie up from behind. She squealed with laughter as he spun her around.

He sat her down and kissed her quick. She was smitten and smiling.

"Would you consider yourselves romantics?"

Rosalie and Emmett exchanged a look and they both laughed like they were in on a joke no one else was.

Rosalie said something to him in French and Emmett said something to her in Spanish.

"We both speak a romance language but we can't speak each other's." Rosalie shrugged with a smile.

Clever.

"What's the most romantic thing he's ever done for you?"

"Oh, wow, I don't know… Probably always asking me to dance." She blushed as Emmett twirled her into a dancing position.

"What's the most romantic thing you've ever done for him?"

"Agree to dance with him when I didn't know how." She smiled sweetly before giggling as Emmett dipped her over his arm.

"What's his favorite thing about you?" Al asked.

Emmett put his arm around her now, kissing her cheek expectantly awaiting an answer.

"Mmmm, probably my tenacity." She answered and he grinned, apparently choosing the correct answer.

"What's your favorite thing about him?" Al asked before Rosalie left for the next mark.

"Have you _seen_ him smile?" She winked over her shoulder.

"What's the best thing about being married?"

"I can't say. My dad will probably see this." She bit her bottom lip.

Al couldn't help but laugh at this.

"What's some marriage advice you were given that you think you'll take?" He asked to get back on track.

"Hmmm…" Rosalie continued forward, then turned over her shoulder as she recalled it. "Fight _for_ each other far more ruthlessly than you'd think of ever fighting _against_ each other."

* * *

 _Present_

I tossed my head back, savoring the last drop of my vanilla latte before I crossed the busy street on my way to work.

It was a shockingly pleasant and calm autumn morning and I patted myself on the back for being such a boss lady and a kick-butt mom and wife if I did say so myself.

I was really succeeding at this whole balancing act.

Jasper and I had a little naughty morning rendezvous, the nanny got there early, traffic was relatively light from Brooklyn today, I got my latte for free because the barista accidentally made the wrong drink for someone else and they offered it to me because it was exactly what I wanted.

The sun was sure smiling down on me today!

A blissful sigh escaped my lips and I thought about how there was nothing that could rain on my parade today.

I skipped up onto the sidewalk, then as I rounded the corner onto a much less busy street, I heard my phone ringing.

My fingers searched in my bag until I finally drew out my cell phone. I had been too late to grab the call, so on my home screen I noticed that I had six missed calls from Robert Hale and two from VOGUE.

I had a mini panic attack and checked the time to make sure it wasn't daylight savings or something absurd like that. No, I was still almost an hour early for work and I was just a couple blocks away now.

September issue of VOGUE was flawless. Online content had been going up in impressions and clicks. We had a shoot scheduled for Friday to go ahead and get ready for some holiday stuff. I was on top of _everything_.

What was going on?

I decided to call Robert back. It must be something important for him to call me six times. He was an extremely busy man, and he was in Milan. Nothing was going on in New York that he'd have any intense interest in.

Then, it hit me…

 _Rosalie._

My heart began to beat faster than a hummingbird's wings as nerves bubbled up my throat.

He answered on the first ring.

Something was wrong with Rosalie.

"Oh, thank God!" Robert's voice was urgent.

"What's going on, Robert?" I asked, furrowing my brow and holding the phone tighter to my ear so I could hear him over the sounds of the city.

"I was just about to ask you the same question." He said quickly. "I was thinking, as Rosalie's best friend, you might have _some_ idea as to what the _hell_ my daughter is thinking!"

Oh no. About what?

"About what?" I asked aloud this time, my throat tight with anxiety.

" _What do you mean_ , about what?!" Robert's voice was edgy and I felt panic rising in my chest. "For God's sake, have you not walked outside this morning?"

Uh oh.

I immediately panicked.

"Find a magazine or just open your phone for Christ's sake." Robert seemed frustrated, and this was not something he was very often.

He was very level-headed about most everything Rosalie did, and just like Emmett, longed to justify everything she did and shelter her from anything that might harm her.

Whatever had happened now had obviously crossed a line.

"Oh no." I said aloud as I snaked through a crowd to try and get to the front of the line at the newsstand on the corner.

I saw a woman smacking her gum and leaning against the side of the setup, enthralled in a magazine. In her hands was a scummy tabloid with Rosalie's picture on the front with bright yellow, sensationalized words.

 _Has America's Princess Lost Her Mind?_

The cover photo was an old picture of Rosalie from a few months ago. Apparently Rosalie's publicist had finally approved the release of the photo after being offered a large enough sum to counteract the money Emmett had paid to keep it hidden. Emmett had a consistent 'double it' deal, that whatever someone would get paid for outing anything about Rosalie, he would double the payment to have it hidden.

I would have to remind Rosalie to fire her publicist later… She just had done it out of spite.

In the photo, Emmett was holding Rosalie by the waist while she was kicking and screaming like a wild animal fighting against him as he tried to carry her out of a restaurant where she'd gone insane over something so stupid I couldn't even remember at this point. Her makeup was smeared from crying and her eyes were crazed.

"Can I see that?" I asked the woman, extending a shaking hand for the magazine.

She blew a bubble and raised her eyebrows as she handed over the magazine.

"What a train wreck, right?" The woman clicked her tongue in disapproval and amusement.

I flipped through the magazine, staring open-mouthed at the photos someone had paid _big_ money to get, because I knew for a fact just how much Emmett paid to hide them in the first place.

There were photos of them fighting of course, yelling at each other, and one of Rosalie with her fist reared back to hit him, but what really got me were all the photos of Rosalie in the middle of a crisis and Emmett taking care of her. They were all from right around the time she got back from Paris.

Rosalie was particularly vulnerable then, and acting like she'd lost her marbles.

I mean… Honest to goodness, she really had lost her marbles and who could blame her?

Obviously the carnivorous American society could, because they ripped her to shreds now without a second thought.

There was a picture of Rosalie in the floor, her hair in her face and the strap of her dress off her shoulder and Emmett trying to reason with her and pick her up off the floor of what looked like a bathroom.

Knowing them both, I knew Rosalie had probably gotten over stimulated at a party. She wasn't drunk or high; she was just extremely introverted and after coming back from Paris, it was hard for her to be around big groups of people.

The magazine called her crazy, a train wreck, batty, a basket case…

As my eyes danced to the text on the page, reading about Rosalie losing her mind, my heart stopped. I barely noticed Robert's voice on the other end of the line calling my name.

"Alice!" Robert pushed.

"I'm here." I said, handing the magazine back to the lady as she turned around ducking her nose back into the celebrity gossip and photos taken completely out of context.

I still couldn't register what those words had said…

Maybe Robert would say it wasn't true.

"She's just up and disappeared." Robert raved. "I can't get in touch with Emmett either so I have a feeling he's taken her somewhere."

"Yeah, probably." I breathed, not truly able to process that this might be true. "Is it true?…"

"Yes. Before she disappeared, she pulled out of every show in fashion week. Paris _and_ Milan. "

That's why VOGUE was calling me. Everyone's panicking.

She was going to lose her Chanel deal. They hated people to be controversial and draw attention like this.

Rosalie was born and bred to be the face of Chanel…

God, I knew I spoke too soon saying this was a beautiful and calm morning…

My heart started to race.

This was bad. This was _really_ bad.

"So she didn't mention that to you at all?" Robert asked edgily.

I shook my head, then thought about how he couldn't see that over the phone.

"No. She didn't." I was so worried about her.

"How are things with Emmett?" Robert asked.

The most recent pictures were dated about four days ago and Emmett and Rosalie were fighting passionately in front of St. Patrick's. I noticed there was apparently a video online of it.

I couldn't bear to watch it.

It was a rough enough fight that it worried Robert.

He knew they bickered and fought incessantly. It was no secret and it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"They were fine at dinner the other night." I didn't want to worry Robert too much about how Rosalie had snapped there, though I had a sinking feeling that it was connected.

"Is there _any_ reason why she would have done this?!" Robert was becoming impatient with me.

I took a deep shaky breath.

"Um… Well…" I began nervously.

"What is it, Alice?" Robert asked intensely.

"Well, Edward brought his girlfriend to dinner…"

"He has a _girlfriend_?" Robert seemed surprised by this. "Well… hell must've frozen over. My daughter pulls out of all of the fashion weeks, and Edward has a girlfriend."

I would've laughed if his voice wasn't so serious.

"Well, _yes_. And, they're very serious." I said vaguely.

"And this upset Rosalie, _why_?" Robert questioned.

"Well, um…" I couldn't bring myself to say it for a lot of reasons.

I knew that Edward probably wanted to tell him in his own time and in his own way, but… Robert was really worried about Rosalie and maybe we could figure out where she had gone or what was on her mind together if he had all the information.

"Spit it out." Robert was impatient.

"Well, she's pregnant." I blurted out, regretting it immediately

"Rosalie?!" The unbridled joy in his voice made me so tragically upset that he'd misunderstood me.

"Edward's girlfriend." I corrected in a low, ghostly tone.

The other line was silent and for a moment I thought he'd hung up. Then, I heard him sigh.

"Why?" He asked.

I knew he wasn't asking why Bella was pregnant or why this upset Rosalie or even why Edward had shared this with her knowing her vulnerability. Robert was asking why this joy always evaded Rosalie, why Rosalie was so fixated on motherhood that she couldn't find happiness in anything else, why Rosalie could have anything in this world she wanted but that, and why his princess had to know such sorrow.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't give him an answer. I couldn't. The lump in my throat was too big.

"I always thought I spoiled Rosalie." Robert said in a ghostly tone.

I still didn't know what to say.

"Whatever she wanted, I gave it to her." He expanded. "I knew I always… I was overcompensating for the fact she'd never know what it meant to be loved by her own mother. I always just felt so _sorry_ for her. She started her first day of kindergarten and her mother was in Madrid dancing on tables so I bought Rosalie all these extravagant gifts and toys to try and make up for it…"

My mind couldn't follow where he was going with this, but I listened because I still didn't know what to say or what to think about his reverie.

"I've always been okay with the media calling her a brat. They've been calling her that since she could walk." Robert's voice was low and even as he continued to open up to me.

"It's always bothered Emmett though. He _insists_ she isn't a brat.." Robert redirected.

"Yeah." I finally was able to say this because I knew this was true and could reinforce his point.

"She's my own daughter and I never thought twice that maybe it wasn't true." Robert got to the point.

"Rosalie's an amazing person." I said. "You did a good job raising her."

He sighed, seeming to accept my sentiment.

I knew those were just small words, but as a parent myself, I knew exactly what it meant to question yourself so much it was crippling. Robert had a twenty-two year old daughter on the cover of every tabloid, and he was questioning all the ways he'd raised her.

"I guess I always thought that she really _did_ always have anything she ever wanted because I gave her so much." Robert mused.

I stayed silent to let him sort through his own thoughts.

"But, when I think about it enough… Rosalie has _never_ gotten what she's wanted. Never." Robert's voice was full of pain. "She wanted a relationship with her mother. She wanted a normal childhood. She wanted to be treated like a human being at work instead of… what happened to her with that… that _animal_ Royce King. She wanted to start a family and be a mother…"

The pit in my stomach was growing into a huge abyss of darkness. Robert was coming to some pretty intense conclusions, and although we were close enough to be family, he'd never really talked this vulnerably with me.

"She's never gotten _anything_ she's ever truly wanted."

I gulped down the nervousness that was pooling in my mouth.

"You know… I blame myself." Robert said in a haunting tone. "When Rose told me she was having a baby, I thought she was out of her mind. She was just a child herself. I didn't think she was ready, and I thought she was crazy for wanting a baby even though… that's how old I was when she was born. I just know how many mistakes I made and…"

"It isn't your fault." I said, wishing I had magical words of wisdom and comfort, but I most certainly did not.

"I don't know, Alice." Robert sighed.

"I do." I insisted. "That has nothing to do with you. It's just a senseless tragedy that they both need to take some time to learn how to cope with."

"I'm impatient." Robert huffed. "I want her back."

I knew he didn't mean back in New York. He meant he wanted her soul to be back in her body. He wanted her light to be behind her eyes.

"She'll be back." I told him fervently, wanting to believe that myself too.

Robert huffed, obviously angered by something and got distracted.

"God in heaven… Camille is calling me. I'll have to get back to you later, Alice." Robert dismissed and immediately the line cut off.

Camille calling Robert was never good. Ever. At least I didn't have to be in on that conversation.

My heart raced and I was nervous as I rode up the elevator to the VOGUE office.

As soon as the doors opened, I'd be assaulted with questions.

I watched the buttons light up floor to floor and I took a deep breath.

I'd kill for a glass of vodka right now.

The doors hadn't even opened all the way when seven different people called my name.

"Alice! Is it true Rosalie Hale pulled out of fashion weeks?"

A thousand pairs of eyes looked over at me.

I just nodded, unable to really say anything else.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen…" One of the interns whose name I forgot shook her head of newly dyed ombré lavender hair.

I noticed she was leaning toward the receptionist's desk where she had her computer paused on the video of Emmett and Rosalie fighting in front of St. Patrick's.

How tacky.

"She hasn't fallen." I snapped passionately. "She's just… _stumbled_ a little. Now, go do your job."

" _Sure_." The idiot receptionist Marnie raised a perfectly arched black eyebrow, as the lavender haired intern leaned against her desk.

The two of them exchanged a glance and a giggle before Marnie minimized the window with the video.

"Everyone knows girls like that can't keep up with guys like him. Always knew he'd snap that frigid little prude in half." The lavender haired one bit her lip and made a face toward Marnie.

I knew for a fact Marnie had sex with Emmett before he'd stopped taking every beautiful girl in Manhattan to bed with him.

It was years ago now, but she held tight to the resentment that she never had a chance with him. The smug look on her face made my blood boil.

"I'll snap _you_ in half." I growled, my intensity honestly shocking me.

"OMG, there is no need to get so aggro." Marnie widened her eyes and tossed her curly dark hair over her shoulder.

Marnie seemed pleased that they'd gotten a rise out of me, and took a sip of her mystery green juice in victory.

"You don't even know what you're talking about." I stepped forward, daring her to continue testing me.

"I know enough." Marnie sneered. "Rosalie Hale is a Stepford _psycho_ and it's about time the world saw her true colors."

"God, get over yourself, Marnie!" I tossed my hands up. "You don't even _know_ her!"

"But, I know she's not the perfect miss prim and proper she makes everyone think she is. She's a grade-A wreck, and Emmett McCarty is def not the settling down type so no doubt trying to hang onto him drove her mad."

"Get over him already. He's been married for five years. He _is_ the settling down type. He just didn't want _you_."

"Alice, calm down." My assistant, Eric approached and put his hand on my shoulder.

I took a deep, angry breath unable to calm down.

"No. I'm _sick_ of this!" I practically squealed. "We can't keep feasting on her like a bunch of vultures!"

"I'm like totally uncomfortable RN." Marnie was so annoying I could absolutely punch her in the throat.

Everyone was quiet.

"Alice…" Eric began, trying to center me. "I know this is personal for you. Rosalie's your friend."

"She's a friend of VOGUE." I fought for her professionally.

She'd had the big four covers: U.S., British, Italian, and French by the time she'd turned 19. She'd also done Japan, the Netherlands, Mexico, Korea, Australia, Spain, and Brazil. She was even a TeenVogue kid…

Rosalie would bounce back from the meltdown, and VOGUE would need to maintain that relationship. The same goes for Robert Hale. He was an outstanding piece of social capital and was well-connected with everyone. No one could mistreat his daughter. And Camille Devereaux…. Even though she was incredibly uninvolved with Rosalie's life - she was invested in her career and no one would get away with pushing her offspring out of the fashion spotlight.

This wasn't some Lindsey Lohan or Paris Hilton type scandal. Rosalie was clean and sober, and she was going to be okay. She was going to bounce back.

She had to.

No one understood what happened to her and what drove this tragedy.

If they only knew…

"No one's printing anything about Rosalie." Eric assured me.

"Obvi. Celebrity gossip is incredibly off brand." Marnie rolled her eyes.

I frowned. I'd kill her.

"Kendall Jenner took a runway hiatus. There's nothing hugely wrong about Rosalie pulling out of those fashion weeks." Eric spoke more reassurances, but I knew that he was delusional.

There was something intensely wrong with this especially when she was closing everyone's shows and the media made it look like the reason she'd pulled out was because she was in the middle of a Britney Spears-esque meltdown.

"Keep her name _out_ of your mouth in this office." I snarled in a threatening tone in Marnie's direction as I turned on my heel and started toward my own office.

She and purple-hair girl snickered behind my back and I heard Rosalie and Emmett's voices on a video of them fighting apparently just a few days ago. It was obviously incredibly edited and taken out of context.

"Do you know what happened, Alice?" Eric followed me, asking me under his breath.

"It's not my story to tell." I sighed.

When would she be ready to tell the truth? She had to come forward and tell people about her miscarriage and her struggles with coping and then all would be just water under the bridge.

She had to.

No, she didn't need to explain herself to anyone, but… But, she had such a reputation to uphold. Her image was everything.

It became obvious to me that her publicist had taken advantage of the fact Rosalie had done something entirely unexpected like pull out of fashion weeks and made her look crazy while she was out of town.

I decided to call Rosalie and see what she was thinking about all of this.

I wanted to make sure she was okay.

My fingers shook as I clicked on her contact.

It went straight to voicemail. I called again… and again… and again… and again…

Tears started to fill my eyes and I couldn't see the screen to try to keep calling.

I was such a bad friend.

Yes, I was busy with my family, and Jasper's restaurant, and the new baby, but I didn't even try to help her through her miscarriage and this rough spot in her marriage. I was too scared to get my hands dirty.

I didn't even try and take care of her or try to be there for her or support her through any of this…

My sniffles were pathetic enough that Eric handed me a box of Kleenex so I could wipe my eyes and blow my nose.

"I know how important she is to you." Eric mumbled.

"It's not _fair_ how she gets treated." I whined.

"She's a _celebrity_ , Alice. It's just how it is and she knows it. She's been in the spotlight since she was born. This isn't the first time something bad has been printed about her. It won't be the last." Eric tried to make me feel better.

"Rosalie doesn't deserve this." I protested.

"Who does?" Eric shrugged.

"Marnie." I said easily and he chuckled.

"Well, it's all going to blow over." Eric nodded. "People will be talking about something else entirely next news cycle."

"I just wish people knew the truth about her." I sighed.

"Like you do?"

"Yes, like I do." I said with a sigh.

What could I do?

I had to do something…

Then, I had an idea.

"Will you call Beyoncé?"

"Alice… _Beyoncé_?" Eric raised an eyebrow.

I'd just watched Life Is But A Dream and so her openness about her miscarriage in the film was fresh on my mind, and I thought maybe she'd be able to comment…

She and Rosalie hung out at the Gucci show after party last spring. She'd help…

I shook my head. That was ridiculous.

"Eric, if I know something, should I say it?" I asked with a shaking voice.

"Alice, what are you talking about?"

"I know something that will… help someone, but it may have to hurt them to tell anyone about it." I said, wincing at even having this thought.

"Well, was it specified off record when they told you?" Eric asked.

"Not exactly…" I frowned. "But… I promised her she could trust me a long time ago."

"So, it's about Rosalie?" Eric furrowed his brow and tapped his foot like he was thinking.

 _Obviously…_ I thought, and I huffed impatiently.

I nodded though, really wanting his advice.

"Well, if it really would help her, sometimes the best friends have to hurt you sometimes to help you. It may not be what you want, but it may be what you need kind of thing, ya know?" Eric put his two cents in.

"So… will you sit down and write a story for me?" I felt my heart racing as I thought about it.

"Me? I'm not a staff writer." Eric protested.

"Well, I can't exactly have my name on this." I said intensely.

"I'm…" Eric began, and I knew he was concerned he'd get in trouble.

"Okay, put my name on it. I'll take the fire for it."

"You're scaring me." Eric widened his eyes.

"Start like this: 'Someone must first be vulnerable enough to open the door to conversation about their own story of pain if they hope provide support and comfort for other women."

"Alice, that's poetry." Eric interrupted, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

"Type!" I instructed, and he did hurriedly.

"Rosalie Hale has once again reminded us that there is no shame in voicing our heartbreaks., particularly those exclusive to the female experience." I went on, my voice starting to shake.

Eric stopped typing to look at me as I paused.

"Okay. Go on." He encouraged.

"Rosalie Hale was supposed to be attending a baby shower for her daughter on September 30th of last year. Instead, she spent 36 hours in premature labor to deliver a baby that never took her first breath. At five months into her pregnancy, she had already celebrated the baby with her husband and her family and friends. She had already decorated a nursery, bought baby clothes, and was almost certain about the name Colette so those closest to her daughter would call her Coco."

Eric stopped to look at me.

I darted my eyes down as they filled with tears.

"Type." I said through gritted teeth and he ducked his head.

"After 20 weeks of belief, she experienced the unimaginable tragedy of miscarriage that 1 in 4 women will experience in their lifetime. These snapshots of Rosalie Hale in her most dark and difficult place help remind women that they are not alone. This is a tragedy so many women experience but no one ever talks about." I felt my stomach in my throat and I swallowed nervously.

"The sharing of these private details of her struggle remind the world that no one has to be ashamed of their deepest heartbreaks and responses to grief." I added in a mumble.

"October was declared National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and VOGUE believes that it is always en vogue to open up conversations that support and comfort women dealing with this pain."

Eric's fingers moved hurriedly, and he kept his eyes at the keyboard while I resurfaced some old photos.

You could barely tell Rosalie was pregnant. She looked a little more snack-happy than her usual thin figure, but it was the glow and the fact that I had my hands on her stomach with a wide open-mouthed smile of overflowing excitement that clearly gave it away.

The next was a photo, the one we'd use for the story, of her in a tight frilly pink dress that she was trying on to wear to her baby shower. It was taken the day before she had her miscarriage and she had her hand on her barely there bump at her midsection. She was happier than I'd ever seen her and Emmett had his arm around her shoulders and was completely joyful and carefree while he kissed her on the cheek. They didn't know that in just 24 hours the people in this photo would be dead. They would cease to exist. They would die with their child that rainy September night.

I couldn't bear to look at that photo of those long-lost family members of mine for too long. My breathing hitched and I thought for a second a panic attack was coming on. I covered my face and cried, hearing Eric stand to come stand beside me.

"Oh, Alice…" Eric patted my shoulder in support.

"Post it." I ordered, wiping my eyes.


	33. All This And Heaven Too

_I LOVE YOU ALL! I was squealing reading these reviews, so thank you SO MUCH! Thank you ALL MY NEW REVIEWERS AND READERS too! My heart is jumping!_

 _Thank you for the birthday wishes! So much love for you all!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm writing some things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also exploring a scene when Rosalie told Camille she was pregnant and what she thought, and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **All This And Heaven Too - Florence + the Machine**

 _And I would give all this and heaven too_  
 _I would give it all if only for a moment_  
 _That I could just understand_  
 _The meaning of the word you see_  
 _'Cause I've been scrawling it forever_  
 _But it never makes sense to me at all_

 _And it talks to me in tiptoes_  
 _And sings to me inside_  
 _It cries out in the darkest night_

 _And breaks in the morning light_

 _*_ No, words are a language

 _It doesn't deserve such treatment_  
 _And all my stumbling phrases_  
 _Never amounted to anything worth this feeling_  
 _All this heaven never could describe_  
 _Such a feeling as I'm healing, words were never so useful_  
 _So I was screaming out a language_

 _That I never knew existed before_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Lions, and Tigers, and Babies, Oh my!**

 _Present_

Light poured in from the window, and the color behind my eyelids made me even less reluctant to open them after not enough sleep last night.

It was a fitful night. Emmett had a nightmare and shot up in bed panting like he'd just run a marathon. I'd never once seen fear in his eyes like that and something like that had never happened as long as I'd known him and quite honestly, it terrified me.

I sat up next to him and kissed his shoulder, rubbing his back in the darkness. He stared straight ahead, not acknowledging me, but I understood.

He wasn't here. He was far away.

The crickets and frogs and bugs outside were deafeningly loud, but his ragged breath was even louder. I didn't know what to say and the silence between us pounded against my heart painfully. I wished there was something I could've done for him.

Knowing about his father was something I'd never thought was standing between us truly _knowing_ one another, but now, I felt like all the words unsaid were a giant, great wall between us.

He touched me finally, his hand coming to my cheek.

"Let me look at you." He'd said in a voice that brought chills to my skin.

Emmett ran his hands over my face in the dark, tracing my cheekbones and my lips under his fingertips. I didn't have to be able to see him in the dark to know that he was mortified to be vulnerable in this new way and he just wanted me to forget about it.

He turned away as I tried to kiss him, and we remained absolutely wordless sitting up next to each other in the sea of sheets on an unfamiliar bed.

I climbed on top of him, a knee on either side of his waist and tried again to press my lips to his.

He didn't kiss me back.

Still silently, I pulled on the hem of his underwear, kissing down his stomach.

I couldn't even hear him breathe.

There was a part of me that knew this could be flippant or sublimating to try and distract him like this, but there was a part of me that knew I could make him feel good this way at least.

Sex was an arena I could control, and I knew I was good at it.

Eventually, he melted into me as I'd planned and I pleased him the very best ways I knew how. I pulled out all the stops I could, but after we fell into the sheets riding out the high, he just kissed my forehead and turned his back to me.

The silence between us was deafening.

I clenched my teeth and my eyes shut, praying and hoping he was going to be okay. I couldn't lose him. I couldn't live in a world where he was so distant from me.

Just as I found sleep, the bright morning sun came bursting through my window at Vera's.

My body yearned for a stretch and I extended my fingers and toes to their fullest lengths from my arms and legs as I whined and let my eyes flutter open. It was still disorienting not to wake up in my own bedroom, though I did travel a lot and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the new scenery of Vera's perfect, Victorian, Southern charm decorated room.

I took in the antiques around the room and mine and Emmett's suitcases littering the middle of the floor. I reached out my fingertips, but all they found were sheets and pillows.

"Em?" I rolled over, my heart dropping at the empty spot in the bed.

I sat up with a jolt. What time was it?

I reached for my phone but realized it wasn't on the nightstand. It was packed away.

A yawn pushed its way from my mouth and I dangled my feet from the edge of the bed before letting my feet stretch to find the hardwoods.

I made my way to the bathroom and started a morning routine as usual, but I was still disoriented Emmett not being here and I wondered where he was. I didn't even hear him or really anyone stirring in the rest of the house.

It was so absurdly quiet, and I irrationally thought for a second that everyone had ceased to exist on earth but me.

As I finished brushing my teeth that irrational fear was relinquished as I heard a baby's cries echo from down the hallway.

I picked up my hairbrush, beginning to stroke it through my blonde hair hundreds upon hundreds of times, force of habit.

The baby was _still_ crying in the other room and it was impossible to focus on anything else. I didn't hear anyone stir to comfort him.

I stood in front of my suitcase, finding an easy long dress to slip on. The baby, Henry, was still crying pitifully and I bit my lip, trying to not stay so hung up as I slipped on some shoes and headed out of the room and into the hallway.

As I entered the hallway, the cries of course got louder and it broke my heart to hear him carrying on this way.

I didn't hear anyone trying to comfort him.

An impatient sigh exited my lips as I bounced down the stairs.

"Emmett?" I called a little louder this time, rounding the corner and not seeing him anywhere.

I didn't see _anyone_ anywhere.

Maybe me and this baby, Henry, were the only people left on earth.

"Vera?" I called her name, craning my neck into each room but also not wanting to get caught for being nosy or intrusive.

Henry's cries shattered my heart into a million pieces and I thought about the dimples on his cheeks that I found just so adorable.

I bit my lip, bouncing on my heels nervously as I looked back up the stairs.

Who was going to take care of Henry?

"The baby's crying." I said into the empty house loudly enough so _anyone_ could hear me.

I waited with no response and I stood at the end of the stairs with my hand on the bannister as I looked up anxiously.

"Well, he can't just be left to cry like that." I said into the nothingness, but I was justifying the fact that I already had my hand on the doorknob.

I took a deep breath as I pushed open the door just enough to peer inside.

Henry was red-faced and wailing as he stood up in his crib, his little fists wrapped around the bars like he was in a prison. He was bouncing, his sweet round face twisted in anguish.

I threaded my fingers together, looking around the room. I saw a picture of Vera, her husband and baby Henry absolutely glowing and happy and full of life. It looked to be just a couple months after he was born. Vera still carried some soft roundness to her figure like a woman who had just had a baby.

I focused back on baby Henry as he cried, obviously feeling tortured in his isolation. I didn't know what to do, and I just stared at him as he looked at me with huge, tear filled eyes.

"Your mom's not here." I tried to explain to him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

Henry reached out his tiny, stubby fingers and cried a deafening shrill squeal.

"Just wait until she gets back. She's coming back." I nodded, giving him a little forced smile as I tried to reason with him. "She's coming back soon I swear."

Henry screamed and kicked and whined, falling to sit in front of the bars as he still stared out into the freedom of where I stood.

"She'll be back soon." I said a little softer.

Henry reached out his arms to me, tears streaming down his perfect face.

He opened and closed his hands rapidly and I took a deep breath, barely noticing that now I was standing right over the crib.

My heart stopped beating as I reached into his crib. As soon as my fingertips felt the warmth and softness of him, I jerked my hands back. I kept my hands up and back by my shoulders like I was snake handling or something. My nerve endings were on fire, and I felt every fiber in his baby clothes and perfectly soft skin.

Henry stood again and reached up for me pitifully.

I took a deep breath and swallowed a huge lump in my throat before I reached back into his crib once more.

My hands shook as I filled them with his doughy baby body and lifted him out of his crib. I held him away from my body, but eventually broke down to my instinct and unexplainable desire to cradle him.

Henry put his head on my shoulder and his hands on my chest and neck as he melted into me. His cries subsided as I stood, vibrating with nervousness as I held him so close to me.

I gave in to the curiosity and desire to close my eyes and smell his dark curly hair. The smell of babies was intoxicating. I exhaled through my mouth, snapping my eyes open.

This wasn't right.

I felt panicky as I tried to peel him off of me and put him back into his crib.

"Wait on your mom." I insisted, trying to find it in me to break the grip his little fists had on my hair and clothes.

He whined in protest.

"I don't know how to take care of you." I told him, hoping to reason with him and have him understand I was not the woman for this job and he should just wait on his perfect mother.

Henry cried and cried as I set him back down in his crib, and I couldn't find it in myself to leave him there.

I huffed and gave in again, picking him up for the second time.

"Listen, this is not going to work." I tried to tell him. "I'm not good with kids…"

He contentedly laid his head of curly raven colored hair back on my shoulder and I instinctively rocked back and forth between my feet, shifting my weight in a sway.

My heart raced and I got nervous.

"Do you like music?" I asked him in a tone of my voice I didn't even recognize before something took over me and I started humming the first song that popped into my head.

Elvis's Love Me Tender.

I closed my eyes, inhaling his perfect baby scent again as I swayed with him, singing a song from my childhood. As I hummed, I heard my father's voice humming the song to me so many years ago.

Henry cooed as I sang to him and I felt the corners of my mouth turning up.

I felt heavy and light at the same time. My limbs felt like noodles, but also concrete columns. I felt energized and strong while also feeling like I wanted to hold him tighter to keep from dropping him.

I spread my fingers over his back, breathing deeply as I held him close to me. A part of my soul trembled and vibrated, like it was trying to burst from the core of my being and I bounced Henry nervously in time with my fluttering heart.

I wanted to absorb his cells into my own.

Could I hold him tighter without crushing him?

I opened my eyes to let them dance over his dark curls allowing myself the indulgence of imagining it was my own child's dark curls… Like their father's.

My throat felt tight as I tried to keep humming the familiar tune and gathered the strength to come down from that absurd daydream.

But, I couldn't let go of him yet. I allowed myself more time and I rocked him in my arms as he cooed, babbling like he was trying to tell me something

He pushed back so he looked at my face, his bright eyes dancing over my features. He chattered in adorable, perfect baby talk and I couldn't hide my smile as I looked at him, so happy to be talking to me, even if I didn't understand.

"Tell me again." I encouraged with a grin, hoping he'd try his gibberish and talk again.

He squealed happily and babbled as he looked at me.

I couldn't fight my giggle as I bounced him in my arms. I wanted to kiss his chubby cheeks so badly I couldn't stand it.

So, I indulged myself and I did.

"You look _so_ beautiful right now." I heard Emmett's voice from the door frame and it startled me even though he was speaking softly.

I turned to see him propped against the threshold, his arms crossed over his chest. I wondered how long he'd been staying there. He looked like he'd already been up and outdoors for hours. His eyes had dark circles under them, but his face had vibrant color in it like he'd been in the sun all morning.

I wanted to kiss him.

Emmett was quiet and unmoving in the door, and made no advances to come any closer.

"I didn't hear you come in." I started, and Henry twisted in my arms to look at the new person in the room that I was talking to.

Emmett's eyes lingered on him with an unreadable emotion.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He mumbled.

"No, it's fine; I was just…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Henry wiggled in my arms so he could be a part of our conversation and began to babble unintelligibly.

Emmett just watched him with blank eyes, but there was something brewing beneath the icy surface of his gaze. I just didn't know what it was.

Henry's gibberish started again and he waved his hand around like he was telling an animated story.

I couldn't hide my smile as I looked at Henry's big eyes trying to tell Emmett and I something we'd never understand.

Emmett uncrossed his arms.

"I missed you this morning." I noted softly.

"What were you doing?" I asked, bouncing Henry in my arms.

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me." He smiled a little and I loved seeing those dimples show up on his cheeks. I was afraid they'd be lost...

Henry clapped his hands together and started making noises looking right up at me so I looked back to him as he interrupted my conversation with Emmett. He obviously wanted to be included.

"I don't know what you're saying." I laughed down to him.

" _Obviously_ he's reciting Allen Ginsberg's Howl." Emmett teased and I exhaled happily at his lightheartedness.

"Already that disenchanted with our shallow, abusive, society of greedy capitalism?" Emmett asked Henry in a joking tone.

Henry squealed.

"That was a yes." I confirmed, playing along with him.

Emmett seemed pleased with me. I willed it to continue. What else could I do to make him look at me like that?

Emmett's entire countenance had seemed to lift and I exhaled in relief.

"Now what will I not believe?" I asked again about what he'd been doing this morning.

"Vera had me helping her husband John with some work. They're building this barn just over the hill for some of their animals and we fed all of them and did some more farm work."

" _Farm_ work?" I couldn't hide my snicker.

"Yes, farm work."

"I didn't know you did farm work." I was still giggling.

I'd only ever seen Emmett in the city. I couldn't picture it.

Henry joined in, laughing and clapping his hands.

"Hey, I'm not just some pretty city boy all right?" Emmett laughed, his eyes full of humor.

"Did you milk a cow and everything?" I teased.

"No. I guess they're saving that for tomorrow." Emmett clicked his tongue in faux disappointment. "But, never in a thousand years would I have thought manual labor was the answer to a daddy issues diagnosis."

His voice was light but full of dark humor like he was absolutely detached from what he'd just said. I didn't dare chuckle though. Standing in front of me now, he looked like he felt absolutely _nothing_.

"But, I'd say it worked. Aren't I just the perfect picture of a mentally stable and well-adjusted adult male?" Emmett was still joking, and I didn't know how I felt about that.

It made me uncomfortable. I didn't know how I wanted him to react to talking about his father, but this was odd to me. I didn't know how to process it.

No, I didn't want him to be upset or spiral out of control or react to things like I would per say, but it threw me for a loop that he was so… _flippant_.

He didn't even know if his father was still alive. He hadn't even _spoken_ to him in 23 years. How did you just forget something like that? How did you just move on? How did you just act like nothing happened?

I didn't know what to say, so I chewed on my bottom lip.

"Rosalie! Emmett!" Vera called from the bottom of the stairs, saving me from having to respond. "Get down here!"

It seemed urgent and I looked over at Emmett. He shrugged, just as in the dark as I was.

"Should I?" I looked at Henry in my arms.

"I mean, you can't leave him in here alone I guess." Emmett mumbled, his eyes darting to the floor.

I realized then that Vera was smart… She was really smart. She knew I'd come in here. She knew I'd be pushed to try and connect with her son just like she knew Emmett checking things off a list, working at something and accomplishing it, and physically exerting himself would push him to see a world where things made sense and nothing was out of his control.

I sighed.

"Hurry!" Vera encouraged and we bounded down the stairs.

She had the back door open to the sticky Southern air and we followed her out into the grassy yard.

There was a worn in path that she followed a few hundred feet at a very determined pace until we came upon what looked like a stable. I heard horses and smelled animals.

I wrinkled my nose.

I would much rather hold a baby than do work outside. I know that she didn't think yard work was the answer for _my_ issues.

Henry babbled in my arms as we walked toward one of the back stalls where John, his father was standing on his toes like he was ready for anything. A beautiful caramel brown horse was lying in the corner making some stressed noises.

The horse had too many legs.

Then, I understood the horse was having a baby.

"Oh my God." I turned my head in shock.

"You don't get the opportunity to see _this_ every day in Manhattan I'd bet." Vera sighed blissfully as she crossed her arms over the gate and leaned her chin on to her arms.

She was smiling happily as she watched, but I knew my face was green because I felt sick.

I watched Emmett's face as he watched this moment happen, but he didn't seem to squeamish. Though, his nose crinkled slightly a couple times.

Just a few minutes later, I heard the baby horse squealing and rustling around as it entered this beautiful but broken world.

Henry bounced up and down in my arms excitedly like he knew and welcomed the new life and soul.

I grimaced, really feeling squeamish, but knowing this was supposed to be one of those moments where the world just opened up and I had some grand revelation about the circle of life or something. I didn't have one of those revelations. I didn't see the beauty in the world and see the connection between my own soul and the soul of nature. I didn't have my breath taken away by new life and growth or suddenly see everything around me in bright color.

My limbs felt heavy and I shifted Henry to my other hip. I exhaled and my gaze fell.

Everyone else sounded far away.

What was happening to me?

I felt Emmett's hand in mine and I looked down to where his thumb rubbed up my index finger. I swallowed, finding my balance and looking back up to him.

He wasn't looking at me with his eyes, but his attention was on me. I could feel it. I let my eyes dance over his strong profile, and as he sensed my gaze a dimple appeared on his cheek.

His deep brown eyes found mine and I saw that he did have that grand revelation about the circle of life. This was a movie moment for him. He did have his breath taken away by new life and growth all around him and he did suddenly see everything around him in bright, vibrant colors.

I took a shaky inhale and remembered to smile back at him to maintain the normalcy of the situation. But, I was drowning in emotions I didn't understand or couldn't process.

Emmett put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me near to him kissing my temple.

"Are you in culture shock, baby?" Emmett chuckled.

That must be it.


	34. Gone

_I LOVE YOU ALL! I was squealing reading these reviews, so thank you SO MUCH! Thank you ALL MY NEW REVIEWERS AND READERS too! My heart is jumping!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm writing some things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also exploring a scene when Rosalie told Camille she was pregnant and what she thought, and another scene of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **Gone - The Head and the Heart**

 _There were times you should have stalled_  
 _As you sailed into the fog_  
 _Like a dog I smelled your fear_

 _Lord knows you should have been here with me_  
 _But you were gone_

 _These days roll sleepily by_  
 _I can hear the old trains cry_  
 _There will always be be a moon_  
 _Pulling me away from you_

 _You're gone, gone, gone, gone_

 _Gone are the days when the wind would brush my face_  
 _Gone are the days when you're the wind..._  
 _And gone are the days when my heavy heart is worn on my sleeve_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Is Hope Contagious?**

 _Present_

I snorted a little giggle and looked back at Emmett, accepting a quick kiss and feeling him smiling against my lips.

He brushed his fingers over the end of my chin with a laugh.

"All of this is _totally_ normal to me." I responded sarcastically.

I still couldn't look at the baby horse trying to stand on its own just a few minutes after it had been born.

"Sometimes I don't think about how odd our life is to outsiders since we've lived in a bubble for so long." Vera chuckled, accepting a kiss on the cheek from her own husband.

The way he looked at her was just overwhelmingly lovely. The two of them were truly made for each other.

John pushed his sleeves up with dirty hands and Vera hugged to his side looking up at him with adoration.

"How did you meet?" I asked, trying to divert into conversation.

"Us?" Vera looked over at me, seeming ripped from a reverie. "Oh, dumb question. Sorry, of course that's what you meant."

She laughed freely. John shook his head with a laugh.

"We met in preschool." John said with a wide, lopsided grin. "And our grandmothers were best friends growing up."

Vera nodded with a smile.

"Yep. And, we've pretty much been dating since the sixth grade." She admitted. "Small town life I guess."

They both laughed. I believed they were so connected that they could've found each other in the biggest city in the world.

Like Em and I.

"Wow." Emmett seemed unable to believe that, his brown eyes wide. "That's really something!"

"When you know you know, I guess." Vera bit her bottom lip.

I found myself smiling, and Henry put his thumb in his mouth and laid his head on my shoulder.

I exhaled at the feeling, looking down on him.

"Looks like you two have become fast friends." Vera grinned like this was her plan all along.

I flushed scarlet, feeling my muscles tensing up.

Henry noticed and squirmed a little against the discomfort of my frigidity.

I didn't know what to say, and offered him back to her. Vera gave me an odd look but took Henry out of my arms.

"You're good with him." Vera tried again with a little smile.

"I _repel_ children." I snorted.

"No, you don't." Emmett argued lightly, but he knew it was true.

"Children sense reticence and nervousness." Vera said, easily diagnosing the problem.

I furrowed my brow.

"Let's go clean up and eat breakfast." John suggested, thankfully redirecting conversation. "I'll come out here and check on April after."

"Yes, please, I'm starving!" Vera said, bouncing with Henry in her arms, and thankful to have me chew on her diagnosis a little more.

"I haven't breathed this much fresh air in ages. I don't know what it's going to do to me so we should probably get back inside." Emmett joked, swinging our interlaced hands as we spun out into the sunshine.

He seemed high on the fresh air honestly.

But, I didn't mind it one bit. He was striking. Like he'd been to me as I first fell in love with him.

The color from the sunlight on his olive skin made him seem to glow and radiate next to me. He was breathtakingly handsome.

The wildness of his curls and his new beard made me want to jump on him, but nothing made me more weak at the knees than the way he smiled now - without boundary.

I inhaled the smell of fresh grass and a coming early afternoon rainstorm before Em and I made our way back through the door, then at the threshold the fragrant smell of a hot, delicious breakfast danced to my nose.

Vera had a lovely breakfast prepared by a cook named Betsy. She was an old woman with white hair and suntanned wrinkled skin. She had warmth emanating from her pores and looked exactly like the caricature of a grandmother.

Betsy had rosy cheeks and a round belly I could've sworn I'd seen her in children's books married to Santa Claus.

She sat down on my other side, eating with us like she really was a family member. Vera airplane-d some food into Henry's mouth and conversation advanced easily as it seemed like we were all just getting to know each other under regular circumstances.

I was thankful for Emmett's sociability. He was charismatic and easy to get along with, and this balanced just how reserved and quiet I was. I enjoyed socializing of course, but I did feel inept at leading conversation. I loved that I could sit back and smile or nod or add a few responses here and there, but ultimately Emmett was the conversationalist for the two of us. I noticed that it made me able to relax.

I even laughed a few times.

After our late breakfast, Emmett helped clear the table of dishes as Vera started washing and John started drying. I picked Henry up out of his high chair to keep my hands busy, but also because it was really calming to have him in my arms. There was something familiar about it.

"You're both incredibly intuitive people." Vera started conversation easily, submerging her hands in the soapy water next to Betsy to help her wash the dishes.

Emmett shot his eyes over to me with a little smile in them.

"Especially about each other." Vera complimented, keeping her eyes down on her work.

I didn't know whether or not to say thank you.

Then, I realized this whole day had been a session. There really was no break. She was so good at creating a relaxed environment that I almost forgot I was a lab rat being observed…

"You both operate at an extremely high emotional pitch – one _highly_ unsustainable for most people, but hey, it really does seem to work for you."

I didn't quite know what that meant, and Emmett furrowed his brow signaling he didn't know what she meant either.

"I must say though, to operate on that level of vitality in the day to day is extremely… _unique._ " Vera went on, handing John a pan to dry. "I've never in my life met a couple that has sustained that type of relationship for very long, especially in a marriage. It's not impossible, by any means, but it requires both of you to maintain a very vigilant watch on staying balanced."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean…" Vera sighed, diving her hands into the water again. "A relationship between you two is going to be inherently… _volatile_."

" _Volatile_?!" Emmett asked; his eyes widened as a licensed professional on relationships all but suggested we were doomed from the start.

"Now, that doesn't necessarily have the negative connotation most commonly associated with it and maybe that's not the best word..." Vera clarified. "I'm just saying that a relationship between you is extremely vivid because you're both incredibly… _fiery_ … and very passionate, and not many people can sustain a relationship that… _intense_. Most therapists would even advise against pursuing it."

"So what are you saying?" I shifted Henry to my other hip.

She spoke calmly like she wasn't telling Emmett and I we were in a sinking ship.

"I'm _not_ most therapists. I believe in this." Vera gestured between us. "I really do."

Emmett nodded, leaning back onto his hands and keeping his gaze down.

I darted my eyes down nervously as well.

"You balance each other out – but you're also both like really highly reactive chemicals, okay?"

Vera started an illustration I was desperately trying to follow.

"So, if you mix just the right amount, it just turns the solution blue or something, and it's great, _A+_ , but if you try to overpower or get too much of one thing in there, it bubbles over and explodes all over the science lab." Vera seemed satisfied with this analogy.

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"That was good." I nodded.

"Thank you!" Vera giggled, and pseudo-curtsied before she went on.

"You make each other feel alive. You're both very intense people, and that _works_ for you. It's tremendously _exciting_ for you to have that sort of vitality in your marriage, and you never want to lose that – or you're afraid you'll lose the heart of your relationship. But, you won't. The heart of your relationship is much deeper than just your passion for one another." Vera spoke in what sounded like a foreign language.

She remained quiet for a moment to let Emmett and I both marinate in this.

I was still having no luck getting to the root of her meaning, but I looked over at Emmett and he smiled a little at me before darting his eyes back down.

"Why did you get married?" Vera asked a perfectly fair question, but Emmett's face went pale and my stomach dropped.

"Because… we love each other." Emmett said for both of us though the look on his face made it obvious he knew he was falling into a trap and this wasn't the right answer.

"That's very clear to me." Vera smiled lightly.

There was a long pause. Emmett and I both knew something was coming.

"But being in love is not an adequate foundation for a marriage." Vera clarified with an even tone as she handed John a plate.

She spoke easily like this wasn't something like a huge bomb she'd dropped in mine and Emmett's laps.

"I think you know why you got married deep down, and while loving each other may just easily encompass it, really, you got married because of your intellectual, emotional, social, spiritual, and physical compatibility." Vera said clinically. "To what degree do you think you've explored your compatibility on important issues like that?"

"I'd say… I mean, we've been married for five years and we've known each other for seven. We've really done a lot of exploring about those things I guess." Emmett said, then looked at me for reassurance. "Inadvertently, I suppose."

I nodded fervently.

"I won't harp on that forever, but there's a really awesome book I have I'll lend you; John and I read it and did the class before we got married and it was life-changing." Vera started with a grin.

John agreed and nodded.

"I'd like for you to take some time and read through some of it, maybe look at some of the questions in the back for some prompts on exploring those categories with each other. It's not as clinical and boring as it sounds I swear. The questions are actually pretty cool and really illuminating. I'd known John since we were kids, but working through those questions really helped because it was really just like a practical roadmap for taking the next step on strengthening our marriage foundation."

I just nodded, hating the sound of self-help books. Emmett hated that sort of thing too, and I noticed the sour look on his face.

"It's really not one of those corny self-help books I swear. I hate stuff like that." John seemed to read our minds. "And, some people think I'm married to a walking self-help book, but she's at least the real deal and not a phony."

Vera laughed heartily and blushed a light scarlet.

Emmett seemed distantly removed, not responding to this traditional therapist talk very well and honestly, neither was I. I hated feeling like we had a problem...

"It's really practical like she said." John added. "One question was like… How many movies have you watched together over the past six weeks and do you discuss the content of the movie afterward? And that's supposed to get you thinking about intellectual compatibility."

I nodded. Emmett and I were both the kind of people that couldn't sit still long enough for a movie. I don't think we'd _ever_ watched a movie together. We passed that question at least. We were compatible there!

"What's your spiritual background, Rosalie?" Vera asked, this being one of her essential topics.

Luckily, this was an easy one too.

"Emmett and I are both Catholic." I said simply.

Emmett looked down.

Vera nodded.

"And your parents?"

"Mine aren't religious." I responded.

"How did you… _find_ Catholicism then?"

"Emmett." I said, hoping that wasn't a trap of some kind so I decided to elaborate. "During my trial, I realized I needed something bigger than me to believe in."

Emmett looked over at me with wide brown eyes as he listened.

"I… I knew I couldn't keep trying to go at it alone. It was too hard." I swallowed. "I saw how strong Em was. How self-assured… Even before I really _knew_ him, I knew he was brave. I don't remember why, but I thought to ask him if he believed in God, and when he said he did, I immediately connected being unafraid to believing in God."

"That's beautiful." Vera smiled lightly, drying her hands off as she finished with the dishes.

I didn't know what else to say.

Emmett took a deep breath, and I saw something in his eyes as they met mine.

"Will you raise your kids Catholic?"

My heart raced at her question. It was the first time anyone had talked about Emmett and I having kids with such certainty that it took my breath away.

She spoke it into existence, and with my answer, I would confirm it.

Vera had faith that we would have kids. It was something so… fresh, and so terrifying at the same time…

 _Hope._

I looked to Emmett, but he wasn't looking at me. He hadn't caught the weight of her words like I had.

"I'd like to." I swallowed.

"Were you raised Catholic?" Vera asked Emmett.

He just nodded.

"You seem like you have something to say about this." Vera prompted.

Emmett shrugged.

"I've just been rejecting a lot of that religious stuff lately." Emmett mumbled.

I felt a pit in my stomach thinking about that day at St. Patrick's.

"Let's go sit somewhere more comfortable." Vera suggested, putting a break into the conversation and taking a whining Henry out of my arms.

She passed him off to John and Betsy so they could put him down for a nap, and they bounded up the stairs as we made our way into the sunroom.

It looked much different during the day with light pouring in. It was stunningly beautiful and I saw lots of green plants and growth around the room. Metaphorically, I wished for my own relationship to be as fruitful.

I knew Emmett was struggling with religion, but I didn't know he was _rejecting_ it. It made me nervous. I didn't want to be on different pages on this. I wanted to keep it easy… It was so easy before.

Emmett seemed to sense I was upset by his answer.

"I don't want you to be upset because of what I said." He said under his breath to me.

"I'm not." I lied.

He just sighed exasperatedly.

"I'll try for you, okay?" He compromised and I felt satisfied. "We'll go to Mass in the morning and no matter what, we'll have a christening at St. Patrick's for our kids. I know that's important to you."

"Okay." I smiled lightly as I sat down on the couch from last night.

Emmett didn't catch the weight of his words, but I did and it took my breath.

My mind went back to the certainty of which Vera had asked if we were going to raise our children Catholic… Was I that certain? It had unconsciously rubbed off on Emmett that Vera spoke of our children like they were right here in front of her. Now he did too… They spoke like these children were as real as I was. She was certain, and that certainty was contagious.

 _'No matter what'_ he'd said…

Emmett had unconsciously caught that certainty and hope from Vera.

Could I let myself have that hope again?

Would I catch it?

I shook my head, looking down at my folded hands.

No. I couldn't.

"Tell me why you want a family," Vera finally prompted Emmett.

My heart raced.

"Family has always been important to me. And… I know this is a bad reason but…" He trailed off.

"Stay honest." Vera encouraged, and I swallowed the lump in my throat before.

"I want to fix the mistakes my parents made and create a childhood that I didn't have. I want to make a stable home, financially and… otherwise. I want my child to have opportunities I didn't. I want my child to worry about nothing but just being a kid." Emmett bounced his knees nervously, but he was far less reticent than he was yesterday.

"When I was a kid, I worried about my next meal, or the roof over my head caving in, or my father getting killed at a protest, or beating the crap out of my mom, or jumping off a bridge. I just… I want to raise a kid and make things easy for them."

I put my hand on his knee and he stopped bouncing them then looked back up at me.

He sighed, then gave me a little smile.

I watched Vera jotting notes, and I got nervous as I knew my turn was bound to be coming.

"And… And I look at Rosalie, and…" He let out a slow exhale as he took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine reverently. "And, I just want to do everything on earth with her."

My heart fluttered, and I thought about it for a brief, beautiful moment, getting lost in a fantasy that was almost once a reality. I didn't want to do everything on earth with him - I didn't want much - I just wanted to do this _one_ thing.

I dreamed he and I were in Central Park and it was a beautiful spring day. The sunshine warmed our skin, and we sat on a blanket in the grass while a breeze played in the curls of our hair. He kissed my cheek while he brushed my hair behind my ear and leaned over my shoulder to peer down into my arms at the perfect bundle of pink. She had dark curly hair just like her father, and his dimples appeared on her cheeks as she smiled up at me. She looked at me with unconditional love in her big, bright blue eyes, and I grinned back as I adjusted the big satin bow in her hair.

"Rosalie?" Vera pressed, and I knew she'd been waiting by the way she tilted her head to the side as she looked over at me.

I responded easily, vomiting the words of my heart.

"I just want to be a mother." I answered plainly. "I want something to exist in this world that's made up of the best parts of me and Emmett."

Vera stayed quiet.

"I want to love my child unconditionally and think about something bigger than just me. My mother always found a way to put her needs before her own, and I don't want to do that. I couldn't…"

I felt Emmett's fingers tightening around mine as my hands started to tremble.

"And, I want to feel something inside of me, _growing_ and… I had never felt more alive and full of purpose than when I was having a baby." I breathed.

"How do you feel now?" Vera asked.

I mean, she'd done it, and it had to be the same for everyone lucky enough for the privilege. I was frustrated to explain and flustered over my words.

"Empty." I answered, my eyes coming back to earth heavily.


	35. Nothing Can Change This Love

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOOW, I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing more in depth about Emmett and Rosalie's visit to Vera's. I'm writing some things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also exploring a scene when Rosalie told Camille she was pregnant and what she thought, and another scene of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **Nothing Can Change This Love - Sam Cooke**

 _Ooh, make me weep_

 _You can make me cry_

 _See me comin'_

 _And you can pass me by_

 _But honey, nothin',_

 _Nothin' can ever change this love_

 _I have for you_

 _Oh, you're the apple of my eye_

 _You're cherrie pie_

 _And oh, you're, you're cake and ice cream_

 _Oh, you're sugar and spice_

 _And everything nice_

 _You're the girl of my, my, my, my dreams_

 _If you wanted to leave me_

 _And roam_

 _When you get back_

 _I'd just say_

 _Welcome home,_

 _'Cause honey, nothin'_

 _Nothin', nothin' can ever change this_

 _Love I have for you_

* * *

 **Emmett: By Any Other Name**

 _Present_

"No, it didn't happen to me the way it happened to her. It didn't happen in my body, and I can't imagine what that was like. I can't and it's because I am not half as strong as she is, but… but Rosalie's wrong for isolating herself and pretending she's dealt with this all by herself. It happened to me too. It happened to me in my soul and… It just… It happened to me too." I bounced my knees nervously.

"It did." Vera agreed. "Culturally, we don't acknowledge the grief of men in pregnancy loss, and I can't empathize with you about how isolating your experience must be, to be told to be strong and just take care of your wife without even acknowledging your own grief."

Even though she didn't really say anything revolutionary, something about her just acknowledging that I was allowed to be in as much pain as I had been in was soothing.

Rosalie had gone on a walk to clear her head shortly after our conversation had ended with us both yelling at each other until she had enough and iced over. We'd been yelling once again about me trying to take care of her instead of suffer with her, when in actuality that was exactly what was happening…

I was suffering.

We didn't really make any headway in our argument, but Rosalie had hit a wall and was virtually unresponsive, just nodding every so often with glassy eyes like she did when she wasn't listening and was far away.

As soon as she returned from her walk, she went upstairs to shower.

I knew something was going on by the look in her eyes. We hadn't talked about anything _too_ harmful or deep today, but I knew something had set her off. She was spiraling. Rosalie shouldn't be alone when she was like this, but Vera insisted I stay behind and talk with her.

It was off-putting and I couldn't relax. I just worried about Rosalie.

"Tell me about her, your daughter. What did you imagine for her?" Vera asked a question I'd never been asked and it took me by surprise.

I paused for a long moment, nervous enough that the cat got my tongue. I had of course thought about it. But, I had to open the vault of memories I'd long suppressed.

"Her name was going to be Colette." I swallowed after a long while. "It's French. But, we'd call her Coco informally. And, that's Spanish. It seemed perfect. Rosalie's mother's name starts with a C, so does my mom's. It was just… perfect."

"That's a beautiful name." Vera gave me a soft smile.

"Thank you." I mumbled. "Rosalie and I immediately agreed on it. It was one of the first one's we even thought of."

"Tell me more about Colette." She said, making a point to use her name.

"My father - well, my _dad_ , Peter insisted that she had Rosalie's nose just from the ultrasound photo." I chuckled darkly.

The lightness got caught in my throat as I cracked open the door to thoughts I'd hidden away.

"Tell me who Colette was going to be. What kind of life did you hope for her?"

"I…" I cleared my throat, and furrowed my brow, not sure how to proceed.

Hearing her name again was all at once painful and soothing.

"Rosalie and I talked about moving sometimes…" I recalled. "We talked about raising her outside of the city so she wouldn't be hounded like Rosalie was - so she could grow up without cameras in her face and all these expectations - but… but, we never got around to really deciding where we'd want to go or if we were really serious."

Vera just nodded.

"But… But Rosalie and I also wanted her around family and they're all in the city." I cleared my throat to try and stop the painful burning of the past being verbalized.

"My sister's in New York and has a couple of kids, and… and now Rose's step brother's starting a family and… it'd just be nice to have her grow up surrounded by people that would love her… It'd be good for her to have lots of cousins to play with too. I never got to do that, and neither did Rosalie… So we both always wanted a big family for our daughter to be raised in."

"What kind of person would Colette be?" Vera asked.

"Well…" I paused, just to make it look like I wasn't absolutely sure, even though I was. "I hoped she'd be kind and have an empathetic heart, but I also hoped she'd fight like hell to get what she wanted. That part, she'd get a double dose of. Rosalie and I both are… are very _tenacious_ so it'd only make sense." I answered, feeling the corner of my mouth lift irrationally.

"Yes, very." Vera agreed with a little smile and a laugh.

"I thought she'd have pretty blonde hair like Rosalie, and be just as beautiful…" I said evenly. "If that's even humanly possible. And, she'd have a dazzling smile… and we'd make sure she'd do that often… smile, I mean."

"She had a thousand dresses before she… but I swear every time I was on my way home from work I'd bring home two more dresses I saw in a window for her." I mumbled, the words passing out of my throat painfully, but bringing with it also so many happy memories.

"But, Rosalie told me we couldn't spoil her so she'd tell me to go take the dress back," I felt the corner of my mouth turn up. "But then, we'd just agree it was the last one."

My chest ached emptily and I hated this feeling.

"Why don't you use Colette's name when you speak of her?" Vera asked tangentially.

"I just…" I cleared my throat, trying to stay emotionally in check.

"Colette was a real person." Vera said, and then I realized that she was the first person who had ever said that.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave and I began to drown.

"Sometimes just using a name helps you rationalize grief and correctly place it." She spoke softly.

I just nodded.

"What's your father's name?" She redirected.

"Franco." I answered with a frown, not remembering the last time I'd spoken that name or heard it said.

"Do you ever use his name to talk about him?"

"No." I responded swiftly. "Because I don't talk about him."

"Will you now that you've opened up to Rosalie about it?"

"Probably not. There's nothing to say." I shrugged.

Vera stayed quiet, and just took some notes.

"Did you ever want to call him?" Vera asked.

"Not really."

"Even after you first moved?"

"No."

"If you called him right now, what do you think he'd say?" Vera pushed.

"I don't know. It's been 23 years. We are absolute strangers to one another."

"Are you being honest about believing that?" Vera raised an eyebrow and I nodded fervently..

"What did your parents think about you and Rosalie starting a family?" Vera asked, redirecting.

"They were obviously thrilled." I responded. "My mom and dad couldn't contain their excitement. It was the anniversary of Peter legally adopting me when we told them."

"That's amazing." Vera grinned ear to ear.

"It was." I found myself smiling too, then my heart dropped.

"What did Rosalie's parents think?" Vera redirected.

"They didn't think we were ready, but ultimately I think her dad was happy."

"And her mom?"

"Rosalie flew to Spain to tell her and I was on a case so I don't really know. She never really said anything about it." I shrugged, feeling a pit in my stomach.

"Can you recall how you reacted to Rosalie telling _you_?"

"I… I never knew I could love someone I didn't know _so much_." I breathed, and my heart started pounding in my chest. "And honestly… it feels _awful_."

"Awful?"

"Yeah, when you love someone that... unrestricted and relentless, it just... It _hurts_. Especially when it's gone."

"Tell me how you've expressed that to Rosalie." Vera pressed.

I ran a hand through my hair.

"Well, I… I've tried to tell her." I said in a mumble.

"Do you think she's heard you?"

"No." I answered honestly.

"Do you think that would help her heal if she did?" Vera asked.

I shrugged.

"What would help _you_ heal?" Vera switched her focus.

Time started moving more slowly and I was self-conscious about how loud it seemed that my lungs were expanding in my chest.

I hadn't really ever thought about any of that.

"I've had to have it together since I was five years old. And, I have kept it together. I can't… just break down. I can't just… _lose it_ any time something happens."

"Do you resent Rosalie because she could?"

"No." I answered quickly.

"So, you think if you could just schedule a breakdown, you'd feel better?" Vera asked.

"No." I sighed.

"Emmett, if I can be frank with you…" Vera started.

"Never stopped you before." I chuckled darkly and Vera smiled briefly before regaining her seriousness.

"Being a child of a parent with a mental illness put you in a very frustrating and chaotic home." Vera said, but I looked down and away from her.

"Yes." I simply agreed, keeping my voice low.

"That disorganized environment was mirrored when Rosalie began grieving the way she did, and you went into survival mode to try to cope the best you could from day to day and hide from that chaos. Basically, you have a very strong reaction to Rosalie's pain because it reminds you of your experience with your father. It's your mind's alarm system."

I just nodded, trying not to get defensive. I mean what was I supposed to do? Just let her go off the deep end?

"So it sets off these adaptive behaviors you learned as a child. You had to become a "parentified" child and take on a role that you were not equipped or ready for as you took care of your father, your younger sister, and your mom from a very young age."

Her sentiment stung, and a sour taste filled my mouth.

"Okay." I mumbled, not really making any of the connections she was.

I still hoped there would be a magical phrase and all the pain would be erased, but as time passed I knew that wasn't how this worked.

"Do you think you're afraid of not keeping it together because that makes you like your father?" Vera asked.

I was speechless and I stumbled over a response, trying to make sense of the jabbering in my mind and turn it into a vocal response.

"You don't want to put Rosalie in the same position your father put your mother in." Vera continued anyway, leaning forward like she'd just hit the gold mine of my psyche.

Maybe she had.

I swallowed, cleared my throat and tried to find any sort of sentence floating in my brain.

"No, I don't want that…" I shook my head.

"What is it that you _do_ want then?" Vera asked broadly.

My mind was still guns ablaze and I couldn't sort through any of it.

"I just want a family." I said, swallowing.

Vera waited. She wanted me to keep going.

"I want Rosalie back. I want… I want her to be happy again."

"And you think a baby will make her happy?" Vera asked.

"Yes." I answered easily.

"Emmett, listen to me. Kids don't exist to fill your life. They don't cure existential anxiety or magically heal the gaps you feel you have. Kids aren't some sort of cure for loneliness or feeling like something is missing." Vera said.

I nodded, feeling guilty - like I was being scolded. A deep exhale pushed through my throat. I was trying not to close off, but it was getting harder and harder not to do.

"What are _you_ trying to make kids take the place of?" Vera asked, and that was not the question I was expecting.

I thought she was going to ask what Rosalie was trying to make kids take the place of, and that was an easy answer - her mother.

But, me?…

"I… I don't know." I answered, feeling like she'd totally gotten this wrong.

I just wanted kids with my wife. That was pretty standard for the society we lived in. There was nothing bigger than that.

"Do you think you're ready to be a father?" Vera redirected and this slapped me in the face.

"I mean… no one is." I eventually responded after some thought, thinking this was the correct answer.

"But, do you think _you_ are?" Vera said.

I nodded, furrowing my brow.

"Yeah… Yeah, I am." I said again.

"Do you think you'd be a good father?"

I paused, looking at her with an open mouth.

The most natural impulse to father children flared within me, and I wanted so badly to connect myself to Rosalie in that way. I wanted her to have my children, and I wanted so badly to see myself in their faces. I wanted to teach my kids things and I wanted to laugh with them. I wanted to hold mine and Rosalie's creation in my hands, and against my chest. I wanted to smell their hair while they fell asleep on my shoulder. I wanted to hear their heartbeat and know that the most divine mixture of our blood coursed through their veins.

It was almost too much and too visceral to process and I almost passed out from holding my breath as I lost myself in reverie.

"I think there would be nothing in this world I'd be better at." I finally said.

I genuinely believed that. I genuinely in my heart of hearts believed that.

Vera paused, and gave me a smile.

I exhaled, feeling a smile of my own begin to touch my eyes.

Then, I heard glass shattering from upstairs and my stomach dropped. The moment of suspended hope and bliss was shattered with the glass.

"Rosalie?" I immediately called as I stood from my chair.

I was nervous because I knew she was having a meltdown without even truly knowing. I had grown to know that glass didn't just shatter _accidentally_ , she doesn't tumble down the stairs _accidentally,_ she didn't just cut herself _accidentally_ … There were no accidents anymore.

She didn't answer and I heard my heart in my ears as I tried so hard to listen for her when I made it to the bottom of the stairs.

"Rosalie!" I yelled.

When I heard more glass being shattered, confirming beyond all doubt that it was intentional, I started up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

I heard Vera following me, but I paid no mind as I rounded the corner and rushed down the hallway.

"Rosalie, open the door!" My hands fumbled with the door knob as I realized she'd locked the door.

She didn't answer and I couldn't hear her. My heart pounded in my chest as I thought about busting through the door to get to her. It wouldn't be the first time I had to or the first time I had to pay for someone's door.

Vera unlocked the door without a word, and kept her gaze down as she stepped aside for me.

I couldn't even breathe as I opened the door and saw Rosalie standing in a garden of broken glass. My eyes darted straight to her hands which were an absolute bloody mess.

Rosalie looked over at me with large violet eyes and held out her hands, shards of glass still stuck in her skin.

"Bring me a towel and some hot water if you don't mind." I mumbled to Vera and she nodded.

This wasn't the first time something like this had happened and Vera noticed by the way I reacted.

"Rosalie, come here, baby." I whispered to her calmly.

She shook her head, her eyes blank and expressionless as she kept her massacred hands by her sides casually.

I made my way to her calmly and reached out for her. She whimpered and turned away from me as I grabbed onto her wrists.

Bright red stained her perfect, marble skin and her fingernails were caked with blood.

"Let me see." I encouraged, lifting her wrists lightly so I could see all of the shards of glass littering her skin.

Rosalie swallowed, looking up into my face with unwavering eyes as I started trying to remove the larger pieces of glass from her hands.

"I'm sorry." She breathed in a ghostly, expressionless tone.

"I'll take care of it." I tried to comfort her and she just nodded.

Her big violet eyes were vast and intimidating. I didn't see any of her reasoning behind her outburst evident in her gaze.

I thought she was done with these outbursts.

"You're okay, Rose" I told her as I kissed her forehead.

Vera returned with tweezers for the glass as well as a towel and some hot water in a bowl.

Rosalie's bottom lip trembled as she looked up at me.

"I'm so sorry." Rosalie repeated as she came back into her eyes.

There was a light on in those violet orbs that hadn't been on when I first looked at her.

Then, the most irrational thing started to happen…

 _Anger_ bubbled up inside of me and threatened to pour out of my mouth.

I clenched my jaw to stop the overflow. Whatever would come out of my mouth in this moment was definitely going to be something I'd regret later. I didn't know what was happening, but I was shaking with rage.

It wasn't pinpointed or directed. It was like I was submerged in it and it was sticky and thick like peanut butter.

I denied her eye contact and looked down at her hands, taking her right wrist.

She winced as I started on the shards of glass in her hands.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked through gritted teeth, trying to mask my rage.

She shook her head without a word.

I worked silently on getting the glass out of her hands, forgetting that Vera was standing there watching until I heard her leave.

"I… I really didn't mean to." She finally whispered.

Rosalie looked down at her scarred hands and I sighed, stopping to look at her.

"When are you going to stop doing this?" I asked, and my tone was harsh and sharp.

It startled her. Rosalie's bottom lip trembled, her gaze clarifying and searching my face. She only found anger, and of course assumed it was all pointing directly at her.

It wasn't the truth, but I didn't have the desire to try and rationalize.

I didn't allow my gaze to waver from glaring down at her, but I felt my heart in my ears.

"I'm sorry, Em." She swallowed.

But, she didn't shrink back from my harshness. She kept my gaze almost defiantly.

"No, you aren't." I said coldly.

Her eyes widened and her bottom lip pouted pathetically as she looked up at me.

"Don't _do_ this to me anymore, Rosalie." I begged, taking her face in both of my hands and trying to get her to magically understand all that was tangled in my mind.

She burst into tears and it ripped my soul straight out of my chest.

" _Please._ " I mumbled, clenching my hands into fists at my side as she cried in front of me.

I made no effort to try and reach out for her, and she covered her face with her hands as she sobbed.

"Rosalie, it breaks my heart see you like this." I admitted, softening my tone a little.

She didn't respond, and I fought the urge to reach out for her.

"Why did you do it?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"I don't know." She looked away, her eyes dark. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm just so tired of being sad." She eventually whined through gritted teeth.

"Me too." I gulped, trying to manage the lump in my throat, hating that I'd made her cry.

"When will it get better? I'm so _sick_ of being like this." Rosalie gasped between her sobs.

"I don't know, Rosalie. I really don't know." I sighed, getting angry again and wanting to tell her to just _stop_ doing this.

"I'm sorry, Em." Rosalie cried. "I just want a baby so bad it kills me. I… I _wish_ I could want something else. Anything else."

"Do you think that you're magically going to stop throwing tantrums like this when a baby's involved?" I mumbled, thinking about having to explain to a child why their mother was melting down like this all the time.

She nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

"That's ridiculous, you know?" I said monotonously, looking away from her. "You're acting out."

"I c-can stop for them…' She started, crying anew. "I can."

"Then, stop for _me_ , Rosalie! Stop for _me_. I'm here, _right now_. I'm here now, and I need you to stop doing this. I'm trying to get better and it drags me right back down to the bottom to see you like this. I'm trying to move on, but I _can't_. You won't let me. You won't." I let the words pour now, and raved. "You won't let _us_ move on."

"Can I come in?" Vera asked tentatively, peeking around the door with a dustpan and a broom.

"Yeah," I started, reaching for the broom. "Don't worry about it. I've got it."

Vera held tightly to the handle of the broom, looking up at me with determined eyes.

"No, let _me_ do it." She said in a command and I let it go.

"Vera, I'm so sorry." Rosalie said in a ghostly tone.

Vera just nodded, and Rosalie seemed devastated to see the impact of what she'd done now that there was no sympathy for her.

But still, my instinct took over and I gave in like I always did. I sighed and reached for her.

I lifted Rosalie off the ground so her bare feet wouldn't be susceptible to the glass littering the floor and Rosalie wrapped her legs around me as I held her on my hip like a pouting child. She ducked her head into my shoulder to hide her face and wound her arms around my neck as Vera started sweeping the glass up wordlessly.

My heart raced in the silence. I felt Rosalie's breath on my neck and a few little tears escaped her eyes onto my skin.

I hated hearing her cry. It was the worst sound in the world, but I remained steadfast as I held her, rocking back and forth between my feet to soothe her.

Vera was quiet, keeping her head down as she worked.

"You are my wife. I am your husband. Any problem you face, I face with you." I said under my breath.

"I hurt when you hurt." I said simply, but that seemed to be enough and she sighed into me, sobbing freely and openly. "But, you've gotta try to help me out. I'm tired, Rose. I'm really _tired_ of your tantrums."

I brushed my hands through her hair, my heart racing at the honesty in my voice.

I noticed the glass was from a mirror on the wall and I made a mental note to pay Vera for it and replace it.

"I heard you talking with Vera." She breathed.

Vera remained still in the corner, not even seeming to respirate as she listened to Rosalie.

I nodded, reviewing the conversation briefly in my mind.

"I knew it was bad to eavesdrop, but I did, because I knew you'd speak more freely…" Rosalie murmured, darting her eyes down.

"It's okay." I told her, thinking she thought I was upset with her.

"I think… I think I know what's missing and then…. then… then I just got sad for _you_." She sniveled.

It stung to hear her reaction to my conversation with Vera, and I ached with her.

I was curious though as to what insight she thought she had.

"Why are you sad for me?" I asked, holding her close.

"Because… because… You would be such a good dad." Rosalie sobbed into me.

I loved her so much it absolutely consumed me. She was my partner. I couldn't do life without her.

And, then I realized how well she knew me and still loved me, how well I knew her and still loved her.

I know she felt it was her own shortcoming and failure that kept me from that and I willed it to flee her mind. I wished that she would see that wasn't the case and stop beating herself up.

As soon as her eyes met mine, I ducked my head to meet her lips.

"And, I want to give you that chance so badly, Em. You should have the opportunity to be a father." She said, kissing me.

"And, I… I really wish my mom wanted to know that I would be a good mother." Rosalie sobbed.

"I know you do…" I hated Camille more and more with each passing moment, and I shook with all the mixture of emotions in my mind.

Then, it became apparent why she couldn't look at herself in the mirror. She saw her mother. My anger flared. One of these days, I'd give Camille the what for, but she probably wouldn't even care…

"Em, your father should know that you would be such a good dad. It'd make him very proud." She wiped her eyes with the back of her mangled hands before looking up at me with those wide violet orbs.

My heartbeat was in my throat.

Her words stabbed into my chest like a hot knife and as she cried, the knife twisted to plunge deeper.

The arrangement of words rang in my ears and I took a sharp inhale. I noticed Vera's gaze was heavy on us.

"I don't want to talk about this." I mumbled, closing my eyes tightly as I tried to manage the ringing in my ears.

She didn't say anything. She just waited, wrapping her arms tighter around my back, but breaking her wrists to keep from placing her injured hands on me.

"I'll hire someone to find him." Rosalie swore intensely and that absolutely terrified me.

She wasn't kidding.

"No. Don't do that." I shook with terror, knowing how easy that would be for her.

Rosalie waited again, knowing I had a lot to sort through in my own jumbled mess of a mind.

"You say the word. I'll do it. When you're ready." Rosalie whispered and my throat constricted so I could barely breathe, but I just nodded and squeezed her tight. "I just want you to know it's an option, if you want that."

"I don't think I'll ever want that." I finally said, almost confident.

"Em, you can't just erase him. It's not how it works." Rosalie said breathily, and suddenly in just a moment I'd never felt further from her.

"No… But, I…" I didn't know how to go on, but luckily she interrupted me.

"Listen, Em, all of that really happened. You can pretend it didn't, but it did. It all happened. He's your father and…" She went on. "And, he's an important part of your life."

"No, he really isn't." I said through a tight, sore throat.

I hated feeling like she was scolding me about something she didn't understand the half of.

"He could be if…"

"Rosalie, _stop_." I said harshly.

"You can try and…"

"God, will you _listen_ to me?" I groaned, wiping my hands over my face frustratedly.

Rosalie paused, her eyes wide and glistening as she nodded. She looked like a scolded puppy and it pulled at a deep heartstring.

"I _don't_ want to see him." I told her.

"But…" She protested, but stopped speaking at the sight of the look I was giving her.

"Stop trying to make it the same thing as your relationship with your mother. It isn't. You think I am starving for approval just like you, but I don't. I don't care what he thinks of me. It's been almost a quarter of a century since he's even seen me, Rosalie. He doesn't know me at all."

I tried not to be too sharp but it wasn't easy, and the words kept coming.

"And do you really think I'm going to take advice from you right now?" I snarled, knowing I was being just straight up awful now. "You're irrational."

"Okay, Em, God…" Rosalie's bottom lip trembled.

I knew I'd hurt her, and it killed me.

We just stared at each other for a long moment.

We couldn't say anything.

My throat got tighter and tighter as I looked into her heartbroken eyes.

We glared at each other angrily.

A few tears raced down her cheeks and I clenched my jaw as I looked at her without wavering.

She didn't release my eyes either, searching them with her own and trying to punish me for letting her revel in her sadness.

"Rosalie, _Peter_ is my dad." I spoke up, admitting this realization to her aloud as it happened in real time.

"I know you, so I know you're trying to come up with a thousand reasons why we're not getting pregnant, and that if we fix these things it's gonna be like magic; you think that the universe is cosmically trying to tell me to reach out to my father, and then we'll be able to bring a baby into the world, but Rosalie, I already have one. I have the father I chose and that chose _me_. Peter is my dad. He legally adopted me and Maria. He's my dad."

"Peter is the one who taught me… Peter taught me how to be a man, and he showed me how to love you because I watched him love my mom. Peter taught me how to be a father. I… I know it's hard for you to understand, but when… when you were saying all that, I just thought of him. I just want _him_ to be proud of me." I went on, shocked with each new word that tumbled out of my subconscious and into the air.

It was like my brain was on autopilot because this was definitely not a conscious thought process, but I realized more and more that it was true.

"It's taken a long time, but Peter has proven time and time again that he's my dad, Rosalie. He's Maria's dad too, because she doesn't remember any differently… But, I _chose_ him. I chose him because of everything he is and everything he's been to me, and I've watched him with Maria and Enzo's kids and… and that's what I want too."

Rosalie nodded, her eyes wide as she listened to me.

"Okay." She gave me a little smile, noting what I was saying.

I took a deep breath, then like a tsunami, emotion crashed over me and vulnerability poured from my mouth.

"You don't know everything, and one day I'll tell you all of it… But, Peter… Peter changed the course of my life, my mom's life, my sister's life… Forever."

Rosalie just nodded, swallowing, and seeming to understand, but I still expanded.

"I just… Of _course_ I feel terrible for leaving Cuba and my father like I did, but it was the best thing for me and for Maria and my mom. I let him go, Rosalie, and I know it's awful, but I did. I had to be selfish. I knew he was toxic and that the bad outweighed the good a million to one. He wasn't the victim, we were. He had a thousand chances to get help and to get better for us, but he _didn't_. He didn't take that chance, so in my mind, that means he didn't want to be the man that I needed to be my father. He didn't think enough about me to change. He didn't love me enough to just… _try_ for my sake to get better."

It felt like I was vomiting my words without much cognizant thought, but with every expulsion from my subconscious, I felt better and better.

"But, I know that what my mom, Maria, and I did was for the best. Before Peter… My mom had this blank expression on her face whenever Maria or I needed her, so I realized I couldn't count on her to take care of us. She couldn't stand up to my father, and she just… after a while of it, she learned how to be helpless. She'd pretend she didn't see the bruises on her face or hear our stomachs growling because it wasn't like she could do anything, and even when we got to America she was so _far away_ she couldn't help us…"

"She felt just as hopeless as I did because that was habit for us, but, Peter… Peter stepped in and changed everything. He picked us up off the floor and he saw how we needed him and stepped up to make sure we'd never hurt. He wanted to take care of me and love me and teach me things and listen to me talk about whatever stupid thing I found interesting… I just… He is my dad, Rosalie. He's my dad in every single way but genetics.."

"I want _him_ to watch me be half as good a father to our kids as he was to me." I said into Rosalie's hair as I ducked into her side.

She burst into tears at this, a million irrational apologies pouring from her mouth.

"I want that for you so badly." She wailed. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't say that." I brushed her hair off her face.

"I took a test just now." She breathed, rationalizing her apologies. "I bought it at a gas station on my walk."

I knew what kind of test she was talking about and I knew it had been negative because it was yet another reason she'd had this meltdown.

I clenched my jaw.

"I… I felt sick this morning and… I… I'm a few days late and I thought… I just… Today made me _hope_ again." She sniffled.

"It's not bad to hope again, Rose." I mumbled, keeping my eyes down.

Today felt different, sure, and I'd known I'd begun to hope again too…

Hearing the tragedy of another negative wasn't getting any easier…

"I'm so sick of being disappointed." She spoke catastrophically. "I'm sick of people telling me to relax, or do a handstand after we have sex, or to drink cough syrup or honey and cinnamon. I can't keep on trying and failing."

"I know." I exhaled.

"But, I can't keep disappointing you even more than all of that." She said.

"I'm not disappointed in _you_ , Rose. It's different. It's completely different, okay?"

I swallowed.

"I know." She sighed. "I know… But…"

"But nothing." I said resolutely. "Nothing about you disappoints me. You _amaze_ me."

After a long pause, I watched Rosalie's expression transform into something I hadn't seen in a long time.

"We're raising our kids Catholic." Rosalie said with passion and determination.

"Okay." I told her, a little confused at her thought process.

Her religious fervor ebbed and flowed and right now it must be on a high. I sighed, kissing her hair as she buried her head into my chest.

Rosalie's tears picked up in passion again and I shot a look over to Vera for some answers. She didn't return my gaze and didn't even look up, but it was obvious she was listening because her brow furrowed.

"No… we are. We _are_." Rosalie looked into my eyes determinedly, fire in her violet irises.

"Okay. We are." I just mirrored her sentiments to calm her down.

"Because we're going to have kids." She said, making sure that my gaze didn't falter from hers for a second. "We've got to keep trying, even though we've been disappointed for so long…"

At this, Vera looked up.

I was taken aback by Rosalie's intensity and passion and I had to force a sharp inhale to remind myself to keep breathing.

"It's going to work out for us." She said strongly. "It has to. I don't care what it costs. I don't care where we have to go or how many doctors we have to see. We're going to have kids. "

Rosalie was an entirely new being as she clung to my side willing me to understand the weight of her words.

Her brilliant determination was astounding and the light in her eyes would've blinded me if it hadn't been the catalyst to the smile on my face as I looked at her.

"It will." I said and kissed her quick, brushing her hair back behind her ear to look into her beautiful face.


	36. Looking For You Again

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOOW, I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing some things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also exploring a scene when Rosalie told Camille she was pregnant and what she thought, and another scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **Looking For You Again - Matthew Perryman Jones**

 _Your breakdown was easy to see_  
 _And it took you away, further from me_  
 _Sifting through mishaps and photographs_  
 _I think of you, much more than I should_  
 _More than I should_  
 _And I'm falling down_  
 _Like it's holy ground_  
 _I'm looking for you again_

 _Slow regrets_  
 _That live in the dark_  
 _And I wrote them all down_  
 _But I know them by heart_  
 _I've counted the cost of this loneliness_  
 _And I've paid for the crime_  
 _A_ _nd one day I'll die_

 _With you in my mind_

* * *

 **Vera: Whiplash**

 _Two Weeks Later_

I watched Rosalie laugh freely, tossing her head back as Emmett shot her down the produce aisle in the bed of the shopping cart. She crashed into the tomato display with a screech right before Emmett could catch up and grab the handle again to save her from this fate.

"Whoops." He playfully grimaced as she turned around in surprise.

She pursed her lips together, but ultimately burst into laughter as she climbed out of the cart.

"I got whiplash." She complained, rubbing her neck falsely.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing both of her shoulders and giving them a quick and apologetic massage.

"Your turn." She turned and challenged, but much to her surprise, he climbed in the basket, looking exceptionally awkward trying to fit his long legs and large frame inside.

He looked strikingly like a cat fitting into a box only one-sixteenth of their size.

John and I couldn't help but chuckle along with them like a bunch of children.

Henry was in our shopping cart so we wouldn't be attempting any tricks, but Rosalie put all her body weight into the handle, grunting a little before eventually pushing the cart at a laughably slow pace.

"Come on, Rose, faster." Emmett encouraged with a mischievous grin.

"I'm trying." She complained with tension, pushing off with her legs to gain a little traction.

We all spent most of our days like this now. After what happened a couple weeks ago, I thought it was best to stop trying to approach this traditionally. A lot of professionals tended to treat people like them like a math problem. The solution could be found through a series of formulas, some more complicated than others, but Rosalie and Emmett stumped me…

I tried reading and researching and talking and having sessions, but none of that seemed to illuminate what was really keeping them from a breakthrough.

Then, out of nowhere it hit me.

Rosalie and I had been sitting in the living room floor with Henry watching him play, the two of us talking just to get to know one another as friends. She was really an exceptional person, and incredibly interesting though she seemed insecure in conversation due to her introverted personality and the learned behaviors of being seen and not heard. Over time though, she loosened up and spoke freely now.

Henry was trying to build a little tower with blocks that fit together with little grooves and pegs.

I'd been telling Rosalie something about raising my first chickens and she reached out to help a frustrated Henry with his construction.

'It's not working because this one's broken, see?' she had tried to explain to him, showing him how the block was a little warped and was missing a peg.

That's when it hit me…

She and Emmett were doing the same thing. They were frustratedly trying to construct a tower that just kept crumbling down because they couldn't see they were using broken materials and didn't stand a chance of any longevity.

Emmett and Rosalie were both strivers by nature. They were tenacious and headstrong and pushed forward no matter what and no matter the cost. They were trying so hard to go back to the way things were before they lost their child and were analyzing every little thing meticulously to try and 'figure' something out that could never be 'figured out.' They were trying to reconstruct their marriage and reconstruct themselves and their careers and their relationships with others all at once. They were trying to 'win' the grief challenge but there was no finish line.

They just needed a new normal to keep as home base. They had both been disintegrated and broken so unrecognizably, but now because of that hey had the unique opportunity to create that new normal from scratch. They couldn't keep trying to build with broken materials…

So, I decided to stop trying to have them analyze themselves and each other and just start from scratch.

At first, they didn't understand why I kept putting off the traditional counseling session where they'd sit across from me and I'd make them bleed freely while I took notes on their words and behavior.

Instead, I thought we could just go to the grocery store, cook, ride a horse, play with Henry, harvest some pumpkins, swim in the river, or just lay in the October sun. I even tried to get them to sit still long enough to watch Young Frankenstein in the spirit of Halloween, but that proved to be the biggest challenge of the entire process.

I swear, Emmett would've turned cartwheels he was so full of pent up energy, though of course they paid enough attention to laugh at all the good parts and understand most of the plot.

Rosalie had her hands busy braiding and unbraiding her hair, then Emmett tried to take the task from her and learn how to braid her hair he was so desperate for something to do. She taught him how to braid and then French braid, but then realized her own hands needed to be busy and so she tried to braid his hair now that it had started to get long enough to twist together a couple times.

Then, even that wasn't enough and Emmett had to stand up for the last twenty minutes of the movie.

They weren't movie people. I decided this quickly.

The next time John and I suggested a horror movie, Rosalie said they'd watch Henry if that was okay with us. John and I were shocked of course, but it was a pleasant break for us to get some alone time, and so we agreed.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Rosalie and Emmett running and laughing and playing in the back yard like children with my own child.

I watched Rosalie get more confident and she unfurled like a blooming flower. She seemed to stand taller and find eye contact more easily. She smiled at her husband and let him take her hand, most times even reaching for him before he could reach for her. As mentioned, she was no longer reticent around Henry and even spoke of her friend Alice's children with fondness. It was an absolutely staggering experience to see how she'd changed in such a short time.

She was young though and still in such a transitional portion of her life that she could modify behavior a lot more malleably.

My focus really was more directed toward Emmett. I felt his unhealthy adaptive behaviors were so twisted and laced through his identity he had more trouble separating the two, but he was resilient and open and warm so he was quicker than Rosalie to adapt to the sheer enjoyment of life's little things.

He was taking to the change in methodology nicely, and the time in the sun seemed to do wonders for him like he had been a light starved plant and was now able to flourish.

Really what made him begin to thrive though was Rosalie's increasing attention and affection.

That brought to mind the phrasings he'd used almost two weeks ago insisting that he wasn't starved for approval like Rosalie was… This behavior made it obvious he didn't know he was lying. He breathed her approval like air and as he began to get more of it, he transformed too.

I think he'd really pushed past a huge obstacle - being transparent about his father - and this really allowed him more freedom to grow out of his past. But, he still had so much grief and anger surrounding the loss of his child that wouldn't be a quick, easy fix.

Rosalie and Emmett both refused to try an antidepressant even on the short term, knowing the research on fertility. I thought that was fine, but I looked at the vitamins Rosalie was taking and made some adjustments. Emmett was really doing better after the initial alcohol withdrawal - but it didn't take long to note that he really wasn't an alcoholic of any sort. He didn't have any of those signs or habits. He was just a little dependent, but ultimately he was in control. I saw it more as self-sabotage and an excuse to feel out of control, but ultimately it didn't seem to be a problem worth pursuing. He agreed to talk to one of my colleagues in New York regularly, and I thought just being able to go to therapy would be good enough to get him back on track.

All things considered, I feel like we'd made a lot of progress, especially seeing them have senseless fun with each other like this presently - horsing around in a grocery store.

They'd started to enjoy their lives again…

And that, opened up endless possibility for them.

Rosalie finally got him to the end of the aisle, laughing with a strain as she tried to turn the cart.

"Wait." Emmett gripped the sides of the shopping cart, trying to unfold himself from the basket.

"What is it?" Rosalie asked, not as alarmed by his tone as I was.

I watched him closely as he jumped over the edge of the cart and strode toward one of the televisions on in the electronic center.

He seemed drawn to the screen like a moth to a flame.

Rosalie abandoned the shopping cart to quickly take the space by his side. She glued her eyes to the television where a blond woman was walking toward the talk show hot seat.

A sickly sweet snake-like smile appeared on the woman's face, and a round of applause echoed through the live audience as she waved stiffly. Rings were on every single one of her skinny fingers.

I watched Rosalie's face, but it was blank as she stared at the woman on the screen. It wasn't hard to notice that they shared many of the same facial features…

My stomach immediately dropped.

"What is she doing?" Rosalie mumbled.

It was a trash talk show, nothing really substantial was ever on here but intense celebrity gossip. The host was a slimy man with silver hair and ostentatious fashion sense.

He raved about how beautiful she looked and how she was glowing - insinuating something by the pseudo-bashful look on her face…

Emmett cursed the nastiest string of curse words I'd probably ever heard in my life as he fumed murderously.

"Emmett…" Rosalie scolded half-heartedly, but he barely acknowledged her.

His hands clenched into fists as he turned and paced forward with the determination that suggested he could walk all the way back to New York in one session.

John didn't follow him at first, then he sensed something dangerous if he didn't, so John turned to catch up with him.

I watched Rosalie's face though, calmly staring up at her mother on the screen, announcing to the world what was supposed to be a joyous announcement, but what had turned into a blatant nightmare.

"Why would she do this?" Rosalie asked me, her eyes coming to me in a shockingly cognizant and serene way.

I stuttered, absolutely dumbfounded. I had never in my life seen a mother with so much obvious jealousy and disregard for her own child.

It wasn't neglect. It was _intentional_ attacking.

This was pure evil.

Evil.

I had never in all of my years…

"She… she knows how hard I've been…" Rosalie's bottom lip trembled now, as she watched her own mother place her hands on her stomach in a reverent gesture that could only mean one thing…

"I'm so sorry." I breathed, throwing my arms around her instinctually.

Rosalie didn't immediately return my embrace, but I wrapped my arms around her tighter, pressing my hands into her back and closing my eyes shut tight.

My heart raced.

"I know how much you want a baby. I know how much you ache and yearn for a baby. It's not fair. I'm so sorry."

That's when I heard Rosalie's name.

"Just a few weeks ago, some photos of your daughter, Rosalie Hale were released along with her announcement of pulling out of every major fashion week - and let me tell you, it's been sending the world into absolute mayhem!" The talk show host began.

Some photos of Rosalie flashed across the screen that made her look like a Lindsey Lohan character of a party animal…

At this, Rosalie's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. I was halfway glad that Emmett had been gone, because there's no telling what he'd do seeing Rosalie thrown under the bus like this. My own eyes couldn't rip away from the pictures that painted her as a train wreck and him as a drunken martyr.

"Then, VOGUE interrupted fashion week coverage and released a response story about how Rosalie and her husband, Emmett McCarty lost a child last fall and they believed quote 'someone must first be vulnerable enough to share their own story to open the door to conversation and provide support and comfort for other women.'"

"What?!" Rosalie's face went white.

It became apparent she had nothing to do with this.

"Alice!" She shrieked.

"Rosalie…" I mumbled as she seemed to start to unravel.

Her eyes were wild and crazed as she stared back at the television.

Rosalie's mother painted on an acting expression of sadness, saying some bull crap about tragedy and fear and whatever that was totally just cooked up for the television.

A photograph of Rosalie and Emmett as happy, expectant parents appeared on the screen behind them and Rosalie's mother wiped fake tears from under her eyes about the miracle of her own baby, thankful for the technology and medical advances to provide she and her wife the opportunity to have a child of their own in the wake of such tragedy.

She said she had no idea Rosalie was still hurting so deeply that she'd have to pull out of fashion week, and lied - saying that Rosalie hadn't reacted negatively when she'd told her about her half-brother. She further spun the lie, saying Rosalie was thrilled to hear her news. As Camille and the host talked, they suggested that Rosalie's jealousy of her mother was ever-present and assuming that it was irrationally and incorrectly provoking mental illness in her of some variety, causing her to act out.

Rosalie's face went white and I watched her closely.

Camille went on to talk about choosing a donor and made a tasteless joke about how at first she thought about asking Emmett because he was the only man on earth that made her question being a lesbian. She shrugged saying that as it was, his genetics were just going to waste.

I felt sick. That's her daughter's husband...

At this, Rosalie closed her eyes.

Information poured from the television, and I half expected Rosalie to rip it of the wall and start a tantrum.

But, she didn't.

She clenched her jaw resolutely.

"I can't believe she'd do this."

I didn't know what to say, and I was never at a loss for words.

What kind of mother?…

"You deserve for the world not to be ripped out from under your feet anymore. I am so sorry, Rosalie. I am so sorry." I said finally.

"I don't want you to be sorry." She said, narrowing her eyes.

"But, I am. I know how much this has to hurt."

"I… I'm numb." She sighed. "I don't feel anything."

"Rosalie…" I didn't know what else to say and I reached for her again, hugging her tightly.

"I don't know where to start." She murmured. "I can't think about all of it at once."

"Just think of one thing then. We'll go through it together." I assured her, taking her hands that were now almost all the way healed now.

"You need someone to tell you it's going to be okay, that you don't have to do this all by yourself, even though you are more than strong enough and capable to do anything by yourself." I told her, my voice shaking only slightly, because there was something about Rosalie that felt so personal.

"You're going to be okay." I told her fervently and her bottom lip trembled as she looked into my eyes, searching.

I noticed her eyes start to get glassy.

"Alice is my best friend, and she betrayed me."

"She was probably just trying to help you after those pictures came out. She knows who you are, and wants the world to know your heart like she does."

Rosalie sighed.

"That was extremely _private_." She mumbled.

"I know that you don't like to be blindsided." I allowed her to justify her feelings.

"I don't." She furrowed her brow.

"But, Alice was doing what she thought was best. She was trying to protect you because she loves you." I defended. "I know it's not in the way that you think is best, but no doubt, she was hurt too because she imagined how you were hurting, and she thinks that what you're doing wasn't working."

Rosalie just nodded.

"I don't like people thinking they know me…" Rosalie breathed.

"I'm sure Alice knows that, and so she thought the truth was the best way to combat that. You have been such an influential voice for women already so she thinks that they'll listen to you again about this. It happens to so, _so_ many women..."

Rosalie swallowed, seeming satisfied with this as she looked away.

"What did I do wrong?" Rosalie asked in a whisper.

"You didn't do anything wrong. What are you talking about?" I asked, brushing her hair back like we were a couple of girlfriends at a sleepover.

She let me.

"My mother didn't want me. She didn't want to take the time to care for me. But… But now, someone else gets her. Somebody else gets my mom." Rosalie wiped a tear from her eye as quickly as it appeared.

The lump in my throat burned and scorched through my esophagus. I don't think I'd be able to speak, even if I had the words to say.

"She has a new family now." Rosalie swallowed. "She's never going to be my mother ever again."

I bit my teeth together.

"She'll always be your mother." I said tightly, not wanting to put the idea in her head that maybe she never had been her mother.

"No… No, she won't." Rosalie disagreed quietly.

"You should talk to her, tell her how much this hurts you."

"It's not like it will even matter." Rosalie shrugged.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't matter to her at all." Rosalie exhaled almost angrily.

Here we go…

I stayed quiet. Anger was going to be what allowed her to finally get exasperated enough to cut these toxic ties.

"She's cold, and heartless… She's mean and… She's having a baby when she knows how much I want one." A few tears escaped Rosalie's eyes now, but she was quick again to wipe them off. "She didn't even try to tell me first. Warn me at least…"

I just nodded. She needed to stop seeing her mother like a saint and maybe she could start to detach from the toxicity.

"That's just so… so evil." Rosalie gritted her teeth.

"But, why now?… Why?" Rosalie turned on her heel to turn her back on the rest of her mother's interview.

"It's awful timing." I seconded her vexation.

"Why all of a sudden is she ready to be a mother? I mean, yes she's older now, but..." Rosalie fixated.

"Will she raise this baby the same way she raised me, or well… _didn't_ raise me, and pass them off to nannies and tutors?" Rosalie's anger was her most prevalent emotion. "Or will this baby get her like I never did?…"

"Either way, I hate it…" Rosalie groaned, clenching her hands into fists over her eyes as she fought her tears. "I _hate_ it."

"I know."

"I'm sick of getting disappointed by her. You'd think I'd be used to it by now." She said sharply.

"I'm sorry, Rosalie." I whispered, my heart feeling heavy in my chest.

She cleared her throat.

"She's in New York…" Rosalie noticed that the talk show was hosted in New York, tangentially and I knew what she was thinking.

"You should go." I said through a tight throat.

I nodded, knowing it was time to let them go.

A deep part of me would miss them on a personal level… I knew John would miss Emmett.

Rosalie's eyes searched my face, her perfect brow furrowed.

"Really?" She asked.

"Really." I said, taking her hands in mine.

"I'm not ready, though." She protested.

"Yes, you are." I insisted.

"What do I say to her?"

"The truth." I said honestly.

Rosalie seemed to know what this was, but I didn't ask her.

"But listen, I just want to make sure you know some things…" I said, leading in to what I was about to say.

"You are not your mother, Rosalie."

She snorted.

"No, you are really _not_ your mother."

"I know that." She raised an eyebrow, her face seeming like she wasn't retaining what I was saying or allowing herself to really hear me.

"You are going to be an extraordinary mother, and I don't exclusively mean biologically, though of course I want that for you. There are hundreds of more ways to leave a legacy than through a biological child." I tried to get her to understand the weight of my words through the intensity of my eye contact.

She heard me now, allowing my words to enter her bloodstream.

"And, you have to stop throwing tantrums." I told her intently. "You're acting out when Emmett opens up to you because you're afraid of loving him as much as you do when you think you might lose him. You're seeing if you push hard enough if he'll abandon you like your mother did."

Rosalie's eyes were wide and understanding and she nodded, knowing how right I was.

"He won't." I assured her.

"I know." She breathed.

"But, you can't leave him either." I said. "He's afraid of the same things you are, Rosalie. He suffers just like you do. Don't leave him to fend for himself even if he seems totally capable of doing so. Men are funny that way. This really sent him over the edge. He needs you. He will transfer that into trying to take care of you and pretend he's fine, but he's not. He's really hurt by this. You have to acknowledge that he won't _let_ himself get overtly bothered by anything because he thinks any display of extreme emotion makes him into his father, and he doesn't want to do to you what his father did to his mother."

She nodded, taking a deep breath.

"You have to know that, Rosalie. He may never be able to fully let go and let you see what's going on in his head when he's upset, but you have to keep trying." I encouraged. "I mean, that's why he walked away just now. He doesn't want you to ever see him hurt. He's scared of what that'll do to you."

This realization seemed to come to Rosalie in an epiphany, and I saw it register behind her eyes. She understood...

"But, that's exactly what I did to him..." Rosalie mused. "Isn't that funny?"

"What do you mean?"

"I did to him what his father did to his mother." Rosalie nodded. "Exactly."

"You both have your own coping mechanisms." I nodded.

"You know… Colette lived for forty five minutes." Rosalie said evenly. "She lived for _forty five_ minutes. Emmett and I don't talk about that, but she had forty five minutes… And, so... We hoped. Even though she was barely as big as the palm of Emmett's hand, we thought… _maybe_."

My throat was tight and my eyes stung at the sound of her voice and the rawness of her words.

"But, when I was watching Colette, he was watching me. He didn't want to get too close to her… He didn't want to know the joy and the hope that I was saying goodbye to. He couldn't. But, I did. I wanted to give her everything I had for as long as I had."

"I talked to her and sang to her and tried to tell her everything good about the world and about me and her father." Rosalie went on.

The healing and power in her voice made me shiver.

"I don't blame Em for any of that." Rosalie clarified. "But, he didn't… He didn't do what I did. I felt the… I felt the life get sucked out of her. I felt them take her out of my arms… I felt it all… So... It kills me to think that I had to go through that alone. I wanted to know he felt it all too, even though... I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone... I just..."

She trailed off, but she redirected.

"You know, someone from Em's office once told him at a dinner 'at least you didn't know the baby' and it just about killed me because I was sitting right there and I felt like I did. I went absolutely _postal_. That's the night that first picture was taken when he had to pick me up out of the bathroom floor."

I noticed I'd started crying when Rosalie wiped the tear from my cheek with her fingertips.

"Emmett and I have been through too much together." Rosalie said evenly.

"That's what makes you strong." I noted, truly believing it.

She mulled this over for a few seconds, taking a deep pause.

"I almost forgot the world was still out there." Rosalie expanded, a curious look in her eyes.

"Life was so perfect these past few weeks." She breathed. "Too perfect. I almost forgot about the rest of it."

"You can still be happy, Rosalie." I protested, my heart beating rapidly.

"Emmett and I have been through too much…" Rosalie mumbled, repeating herself, but sounding different. "I just thought we could be happy for a while."

"Life will _always_ be out there, Rosalie, and it will always be hard, but of course, you can still be happy with Emmett." I assured her with a fervent nod."You have each other - through anything and everything!"

She twirled a piece of her hair around her fingers and I caught a flash of her diamond ring.

In a cliche, I thought about how much pressure was needed to create that diamond, and how much pressure was needed to create the marriage it symbolized...

"I can never thank you enough for what you did." Rosalie said, her eyes coming back to mine with sincerity and weight in her words.

I swallowed.

"You don't need to thank me." I mumbled.

"But, I do." Rosalie nodded. "You changed everything for us."

"You're both incredibly strong, resilient, amazing people." I said, squeezing her arm.

She gave me a little smile.

"And… And you've become a friend." I admitted.

"I won't forget this, Vera." She breathed.


	37. Happy Life

Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! I know this is a teaser chapter, but I'm really trying to work on the Camille - Rosalie scene and edit an Emmett - Rosalie scene.

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing some more things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also exploring a scene when Rosalie told Camille she was pregnant and what she thought, and another scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **Happy Life: Roland Faunte**

 _Sometimes I picture this happy life_  
 _Burning in the depth of time_  
 _Where sadness is a myth to me_  
 _Is that something you can give to me?_

 _I picture this silent room_  
 _Humming with that silent tune_  
 _That my body sings when I get close to you_  
 _So hear me now, it might be ending soon_

 _I picture that morning kiss_  
 _The death of pain and loneliness_  
 _You give me strength when you hold my hand_

 _I'm that headless heart, that broken man_

* * *

 **Robert: Full of Questions**

 _Five Years Ago; Rosalie's Birthday_

"What are you _doing_ here?" I half-laughed.

One of my assistants had grabbed me out of my office, saying there was a man that obviously didn't understand fashion by the 10 year old suit he was wearing that was not tailored correctly.

I laughed, wondering who it could've been, when much to my surprise I found Emmett McCarty looking intensely out of place standing in the middle of my atelier.

He looked around, seeming overwhelmed by the openness and size of my studio as craftsmen brought my imagination to life. Needles and thread and silk and leather and hands worked together in great attention to detail to create the pieces of the wearable art empire my family had built.

My atelier was an old warehouse in Meat Packing District - far off from Emmett's usual stomping grounds, and he'd never sought me out while I was over here.

I noticed his face didn't wear its normal childish grin and his eyes weren't meeting mine. He looked nervous, and this immediately made me wonder.

"Elizabeth told me you were here." He said, trying to find my eyes now, but they darted down once more.

"Yeah, I'm finishing up Rosalie's birthday present." I said, gesturing toward a model with measurements similar to Rosalie's that was in the middle of a final fitting of the dress I'd created for her.

18 was a big birthday! She needed something special and one of a kind, and of course it didn't hurt to have my daughter photographed in my designs. I'd spent over 1,000 hours creating this one dress and all the team I had working on it used their best craftsmanship.

It was a jewel, and I hoped Rosalie would consider it a timeless wheelhouse was menswear, so I didn't usually do dresses like this. In fact, I rarely even did dresses, but I was releasing the fashion house's first line dedicated to her in the Spring.

The model I was working with looked Emmett up and down with a little smile.

He didn't return her gaze, which was _extremely_ out of character. He seemed to bounce with anxious energy.

"What do you think?" I asked, knowing he didn't truly grasp the full effect of the dress because he didn't know enough about fashion to truly appreciate the artistry of it.

I didn't really need his opinion; I just needed to get him talking about what was plaguing him. He was acting so off, and he wasn't being outright about what it was to make him this way.

"She'll love it." Emmett mumbled, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"So, what's going on?" I questioned, clapping my hand on his shoulder.

"Well… I…" He cleared his throat, looking intensely young and boyish in his current state. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" I raised an eyebrow, keeping my hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, taking a deep breath that he didn't exhale.

"Can we…" He started. "Maybe somewhere private?"

I frowned, nervous about what on earth he had on his mind that was making him act like an alien had abducted him.

I would've laughed at how he was nervously starting to sweat like a teenager, but his eyes met mine with desperate intensity.

Was he in some kind of trouble?

"Yeah… Of course." I said, responding to his intensity and leading him back toward my office.

He finally exhaled, his hands dipping into his pockets and his head ducking down as he followed me into my office.

I sat behind my desk, but he didn't immediately take the seat across from me.

"You can sit down." I snorted a humorless laugh, and gestured for him.

"Do you want a drink?" I asked.

"I… No, I shouldn't…" He stumbled over his words in a way I'd never heard him do.

"You're scaring me." I finally admitted. "What's going on?"

"If you want a drink…" He mumbled, diverting, but also seeming to stall from what he was trying to ask me.

"Do I _need_ a drink?" I laughed, but he snapped his gaze up to me with a serious expression with wide eyes so my smile disappeared.

"Emmett, what's got you acting like you've seen a ghost?" I asked. "You know… You know I… I _care_ about you. You've done so much for my family, my Rosalie…"

I knew men didn't really talk about feelings, but I was an open book and if he was having trouble with something, I wanted him to know he could tell me. I had begun to view him as a dear friend.

He winced, a look on his face that I couldn't read.

"Robert," He started, clearing his throat and seeming to sit up taller. "I… It's about Rosalie."

"Oh God, is she okay?" I panicked.

I knew she went to Mass with his family, and that he'd been a good influence on her. Rosalie told me that his little sister Maria had actually become a good friend of hers. They were very close in age, but Maria being just a little older, was married and starting a family so she seemed to be a good person for Rosalie to be around that was normal and not living a life in front of a camera.

"Yes, she's…" He cleared his throat again, a nervous habit. "She's fine."

"Spit it out." I encouraged.

"Robert, I…" He began again, then took a deep breath of confidence. "Rosalie's an extraordinary person. She's such a strong woman with such a conviction for what she wants."

"Yes?" I pushed.

Emmett looked like he was going to pass out, but then he spoke again.

"She told me she wants to get married." He exhaled.

I laughed uncomfortably. She was out of her mind. Then, a thought occurred to me that hadn't before and I was in blatant denial until it came out of his mouth.

"I… I want that too. I _love_ her, Robert, and she loves me, and…"

I completely didn't register what he said, and I stared at him open mouthed.

" _What the hell_?!" I gasped.

Panic filled his eyes, but really I couldn't even process that. I was still trying to wake up from what was surely just a hallucination. Surely, all of his words didn't fit together as they'd tangled up in my head. Right?!

"I love Rosalie more than life itself, and I want to ask her to marry me." He said, digging down in his pocket and producing that recognizable little box that I knew opened on either side with the golden words, HARRY WINSTON, inside.

My hands shook, and my heart raced in my chest.

Maybe if I slapped myself, I'd wake up.

"Tonight." He exhaled, handing me the box like he was asking _me._

He bounced his knees with anticipation, wanting my approval like air. I saw it in his eyes. I gritted my teeth resolutely, and even though I didn't want to, I opened the box.

The ring was blindingly brilliant and I gasped, reaching for the box. I'd never seen a ring this beautiful. It was a huge diamond center stone with a halo of smaller diamonds and platinum. It was stunning…

Then, I remembered… It was for my daughter. It was for my only child, my princess, the sun my world revolved around.

It was her ring…

It was a ring for a princess - exactly what I'd imagine she deserved. I was distracted, but I shook myself back into reality, trying to remind myself to close my mouth.

"If I have your blessing…" He qualified with wide eyes full of anticipation.

"What?!" It was all I could say.

"Rosalie and I…" He started with a phrase full of connotation.

They were a _'we'_ and I had no idea. How did I have no idea?!

"Is it about the money?" I asked through clenched teeth, that being the first thing that came to mind.

"No! I…" Emmett started, taking the box back from my outstretched hand.

"We have plenty of money. How much do you need?" I exhaled, fumbling with my desk drawer for a checkbook, this being the only logical explanation.

"Nothing. Robert, I…" He denied fervently. "I really don't need Rosalie's money."

Well, I'd thought that was true. I'd read an estimate of his own net worth, but maybe...

Rosalie had a lot of money from my family's long standing fashion empire fortune, but even more money that she'd made herself. Of course he knew this…

I felt betrayed.

"I _really_ love your daughter, and I want to marry her. She wants to marry me too."

"No. No way." I put my hands on either side of my head so it'd stop spinning.

"Robert, I _know_ I can give her a good life." Emmett said seriously, making it obvious he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

He waited for me to process all of this, bouncing his knees.

No. _No way_.

I knew what kind of guy he was. I'd seen him with scores of different women, always emotionally unavailable and detached. I'd seen him womanize and play with hearts. I'd seen him hurt plenty of Manhattan's finest, tainting their reputation and their lives forever.

Those girls didn't stand a chance against him. He was the worst kind… He was a nice guy, polite, for all intents and purposes exactly the guy you'd want to bring home to your parents, but he was unavailable and difficult and with three other girls at the same time.

"Robert, I love her and I respect _you_. I want to marry Rosalie and I want to treat her like I absolutely _know_ you want her to be treated, and I think I can." He redirected, not taking no for an answer.

We'd be here for a while.

"You think?" I challenged. "That's not enough for me."

"I _know_ I can, Robert." Emmett's voice held so much intensity it took me back. "No one could _ever_ love her like I can."

He was confident and unwavering, and I shivered at the tone of his voice.

My throat was tight and I was nervous.

"I rehearsed this a million times. But, I… I… I'm not saying the right things." Emmett trailed off and mumbled.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully and he frowned, trying again.

"I think you know that Rosalie and I could make each other very happy. I think you trust me. I think you…"

"I _did_ trust you." I said sharply, burning my eyes into his so he'd know the gravity of what he'd done.

"But, you _blindsided_ me." I tossed my hands up. "You've been… been dating my daughter behind my back? Sounds like lying to me."

Emmett nodded, clenching his jaw, and shooting his eyes down as I scolded him.

"How long?" I asked like it mattered.

"Since February." He admitted honestly, keeping his eyes down.

It had been _eight_ months. How did I not see it in 8 months? Right in front of my eyes…

"So when I let her go to Bangladesh?!" I fumed. "I let my daughter go across the _world_ with you!"

Emmett nodded, a look on his face like a scolded puppy.

"You didn't think to mention that my _seventeen_ year old daughter would be… _shacking_ up with you?"

"Well… I… I didn't…" Emmett stuttered. "It wasn't like that."

Then, I gripped the sides of my desk, full of dread but also feverish anger.

"Is she?…" My face went white. "Oh my God… I will kill you!"

"Jesus Christ. No!" He denied fervently dodging my hand as I reached across the desk for him.

He knew what I was getting at by the gloom and panic in my face.

"I haven't touched her."

But, he would and he wanted to. I was sick. I could die right here. I wanted to be swallowed up.

His face flushed red nervously, and he was full of anxiety.

"I'm sorry… I'm so nervous." Emmett exhaled, looking intensely boyish again.

I was still trying to recover from the almost heart attack I'd just had.

"I'm sorry. I just... I want to say the right things, and I want your blessing when I marry your daughter. That would mean a lot to her, and to me." Emmett sighed.

He said this like they were going to get married no matter what I said, he just didn't want to feel guilty about it. I was fuming.

"You got in her head. You pushed her into this. You've manipulated her." I was grasping for straws.

"No. That's not it at all, Robert." He said calmly. "She fell in love with me and I fell in love with her. We didn't mean for it to happen. It just… It just did."

I paused, clenching my jaw and not really knowing what to think.

"She _loves_ you?" I questioned in a breathy tone.

At this, Emmett grinned, and I read the sincerity on his face.

"Yeah… Yeah, she does." He smiled, giddy and smitten. "She really does."

I'd have been happy for him, if it wasn't because he was giddy and smitten with my only daughter.

I remembered that when no one else could get through to her, he could. Instinctually, she trusted him that very first day that they met. When no one else could do anything for her, he did. I remembered the way he fought for her - ruthlessly and passionately. He believed in her and saw the strength in her before he really knew her.

My resolve softened little by little, but I still blinked as I looked at the picture on my desk of my little girl with her two blonde braids and missing front teeth sitting happily on my shoulders in Mykonos.

That was just yesterday… She was just six years old _yesterday..._

I started to laugh humorlessly before I finally collected my thoughts.

"This… This is ridiculous." I gasped out.

His face fell tragically.

"She's… She's too young to get married!" I protests.

"That's how old her mother was…" Emmett mumbled, not wanting to disrespect me, but also wanting make me aware of that fact.

"And you see how _that_ turned out." I snorted. "And times have changed. 18 is different than it used to be, and…"

Emmett kept his gaze down. I could come up with thousands of reasons they shouldn't get married. Not one of them discouraged him though. He was marrying my daughter.

He was just as damn stubborn as she was.

"Give Rosalie some credit." Emmett started. "She's extremely independent, brilliant, and mature, and strong, and…"

"I _know_ my daughter." I said defensively.

"I know you do, so you know she's not one for impulsivity." Emmett expanded, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.

My Rosalie… My sweet Rosalie.

"She's thought this through meticulously. She's nothing like _either_ of us were at 18. She's wise and sensible and thoughtful. She's sure of herself, and Robert, she's ready to get married, and she wants to marry me. I want to make that happen as soon as I can."

"You've talked about this?…" I swallowed, nervous and seething.

Emmett nodded.

"My feelings will _never_ change about her, and I'm going to stay by her side through anything. I love her and I'll love her for as long as I've got, and she wants to love me too. We want to get married and start our lives together as soon as…"

"Stop." I held up my hand.

Emmett was nervous, his gaze dancing over my face as he tried to sense what I was thinking.

I honestly didn't even know what I was thinking.

There was a long pause that I'd created. I didn't know how I wanted it to be filled, but the silence seemed worse somehow and it was hard to look back at him.

"Robert… We _really_ want to get married." Emmett started again, his voice trembling.

I sighed.

"Did she know you were coming to talk to me today?" I asked.

"I insisted." Emmett nodded.

"So, my daughter wanted to get engaged first, _then_ decide to tell me?" I howled, my heart racing.

Emmett's eyes widened at my fervency, afraid that he'd thrown Rosalie under the bus.

"Well, she didn't know if you'd… you'd be happy, so she… Well, the whole forgiveness not permission thing?" Emmett said evenly.

I raged and fumed.

"Of course I'm _not_ happy! This came out of left field here, Emmett." I tossed my hands upon in the air.

"I know. I'm sorry." He responded in a mumble. "We just…"

"I'm still processing that my daughter is part of a _'we'_ so of course I can't process that she wants to get married!" I raved. "And to _you_ of all people!"

At this, he had nothing to say. He kept his eyes down and bounced his knees nervously.

"How did _she_ think this was going to go?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, she um…" Emmett ran a hand through his hair nervously, obviously offended by what I'd said.

I was too angry to feel bad about it.

"She told me that… that you'd… well, that you'd be a little hesitant at first, but that you'd ultimately see that… that I could make her happy. Rosalie said that you'd think that was enough… I can make her happy."

"Can she make _you_ happy?" I narrowed my eyes. "Because _that_ is what I'm concerned about, Emmett."

He nodded rapidly like this was an easy question, but he didn't understand.

"Listen. I know what it's like to be in a marriage with someone I couldn't make happy - no matter what I did, it wasn't enough. No matter how much I poured and poured and poured out my love, it didn't make her happy. No matter how much of myself I changed and molded and tried to give, it wasn't right. I don't want Rosalie running in circles and exhausting herself trying to please you because you didn't acknowledge in the beginning the possibility that she might not make you happy in a few weeks, months, years, whatever. _That_ is what I'm worried about."

"Robert, I…" Emmett started, but I held up my hand.

"I don't want to live in a world where you wake up and decide that my daughter isn't enough for you." I gritted my teeth so he'd know I was serious, but I tried to keep my voice even. "I can't allow my daughter to go through a divorce like I did."

"Being Catholic we wouldn't..." Emmett trailed off.

"Annulment, whatever the hell your church calls it, I don't want her to be lonely and hurt and exhausted and empty trying to please you." I said sharply.

Emmett sat back at this, aware of my animosity.

"Of course, _I_ know how beautiful, and lovely, and perfect Rosalie is. I don't think you will never find another girl better than her no matter how much you try, but Emmett, can you tell me that she'll always be enough for you? Honestly, can you tell me that?"

"Without a doubt!" Emmett's eyes were wide and sincere, but I saw he was blinded by love for her. "Rosalie will always be enough for me."

Did he see that he might one day wake up and not be satisfied with her?

"You can't…" I started, but didn't know how to finish.

"I won't hurt her." He swore. "You know I can't. I can't hurt her, Robert."

I didn't know what to say. He was right. I didn't think he had it in him to hurt her after what they'd been through together. I clenched my jaw.

"I will take care of her." Emmett's eyes were vast and bottomless, but there was something so substantial in them that made a peace wash over me.

I had never seen such authentic honesty in my life.

I swallowed, but didn't let go of our eye contact.

"You know I can, and you know I will." Emmett said confidently.

My heart was in my throat, and I felt a sour taste in my mouth as I frowned.

I stood from my desk, ready to turn him away.

"Please Robert? I want to marry Rosalie. _Please_ give us your blessing." Emmett stood desperately, with desire in his big eyes.

He offered his hand to me, his gaze full of anticipation and hope.

I looked down at his outstretched hand, knowing that if my daughter loved him even half as much as he seemed to love her, I would be shaking the hand of my son-in-law whether I gave him my blessing or not.

I took his hand, and he smiled a relieved smile, knowing with confidence that she really did love him like he said she did.

He knew that as soon as I saw that for myself… He'd have my blessing, because who was I to deny Rosalie _anything_ her heart desired?…

* * *

 _Three Months Ago_

"I _hate_ you!" I heard my daughter's usually velvet voice screech as I came up the hallway and my stomach dropped as the hallway seemed to get longer and longer with their door at the very end of it.

It felt like I'd never reach it.

I heard glass shattering and several loud thuds as my hand finally found the doorknob. Rosalie screamed a blood-curdling scream and I couldn't throw the door open fast enough.

It had been almost seven months since she came back from Paris. For three months, I hadn't been able to see her sweet face or be able to hug her and know she was okay. I worried about her incessantly, and knowing that Camille wasn't going to take good care of her didn't help very much. It devastated me that she'd chosen to go to Paris, but I didn't really have the room to throw myself any pity parties when I knew how catastrophic her miscarriage had been.

My life was Rosalie. Everything I did, I did for her. So when her world collapsed, mine did too. I had tried to find meaning and purpose trying to help Emmett out even though he didn't need it.

He obviously drank heavily, but he was able to keep himself busy, over achieve at work, and make sure life erased every trace of the past year so Rosalie could live in a world free of the memory of what happened to her.

The only problem with that was how heavily the past weighed on the two of them when no one else could help them shoulder the burden. They were isolated in their pain and he'd decided that was best for the both of them because Rosalie was in no place to make any decisions for herself.

She'd returned from Paris a totally new creature - one I barely recognized. I'd almost wished I could go back to pretending she was happy when I saw how much more miserable she was when she came back.

Rosalie was mean and cold and ruthless, and the presence of such hate in her eyes made her look even more like her mother…

My Rosalie came back from Paris a different person.

She was no longer my daughter. She was a monster.

Emmett never asked for my help with her, but we saw them both periodically and it was stressful and awful every time. He took care of her incessantly. When she wasn't cold, she was fighting evilly with him; when she wasn't scarily calm, she was raising hell and having a meltdown.

But tonight, Emmett had called and asked me if I wouldn't mind stopping by for a little while.

His voice was even, but full of an odd tension so it made me rush over. And, all at once I was glad and devastated I did.

I didn't know what to expect as I opened the door to their apartment, but it was a scene from my worst nightmare.

The building might as well have been hit by a hurricane.

I had entered the front lines of a war zone.

Rosalie screamed curse words I didn't even know that she knew.

Emmett had her by the waist in the other room as she violently twisted in his vice grip. He yanked her back, overpowering her easily only in strength, because she kicked and fought against him passionately as he struggled to hold her up off the floor.

Then, I realized they knew the same colorful vocabulary.

"You're not doing this, Rosalie!" He growled at her, and she arched her back like some sort of wild animal, knocking over a lamp with her frantically thrashing limbs.

It crashed to the floor and she screamed again. Emmett's back thudded into the wall and she threw her head back, trying to head butt him apparently.

"Leave me alone!" She shrieked another string of curse words.

She escaped his grip now, and he reached out for her arm, but she was slippery and slammed the bathroom door in his face.

"Rosalie!" He yelled her name so fiercely that I flinched. "Get back in here!"

"You have got to be kidding me!" He beat on the door with his fists angrily. "Open this damn door, right now or so help me God!"

My hands shook, and I felt absolutely helpless as I noticed the glass and books from nearby shelves on the floor, the overturned furniture, and the broken trinkets creating a war zone that was a perfect environment for the intensity with which they yelled at each other right now.

Emmett picked up the nearest thing to him, a vase and tossed it at the far wall with a feral growl.

When he turned, I saw blood was rushing down his face, down the front of his shoulder and staining down the front of his shirt.

"I will break this door down!" He yelled, banging his fists on the door so hard that I thought he'd really break it in. "Rosalie, I said open the door right now!"

I worried about Rosalie more than I usually worried about her especially after I'd seen her this way, but good God that was a lot of blood.

I'd seen them fight before when she got back from Paris, but it was never like this.

It was never like _this_ …

He swiped his hand over the table behind him, glass and porcelain shattering in the floor.

That's when he noticed me.

"Robert!" He croaked in a hoarse voice making it evident that I had walked in after potentially hours of yelling, screaming, and fighting.

I swallowed, meeting his frightened and befuddled gaze.

He stumbled, his hand barely catching the corner of the table.

His skin was pale as a dead man's, and the purple dark circles under his eyes were the only spots of color on his face other than that bright red blood.

There was a lot of it.

He looked like a prize fighter.

What the hell did she do?

It was easy to see the pain on his face, and he looked like a vastly different person so my mind registered him as a stranger.

I was alarmed that I couldn't respond as I tried to find the words.

"You got here so fast…" He began, his eyes darting down in shame, then he cleared his throat to redirect.

He stumbled again and I smelled alcohol.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Rosalie, your father's here." He said, ignoring me and tapping his knuckles on the door lightly.

She was quiet, and I watched Emmett vibrate with worry.

"Baby, _please_ come out." He begged her.

"I don't want to see you." She said, her voice cold and even.

"She means me." Emmett assured me, then drummed his fingers on the door again. "Rose, get out here. I'm going to leave as soon as you do."

I heard the lock turn.

She hesitantly emerged from the bathroom like a vampire into the light and blinked to adjust herself to her environment.

Emmett smiled at her sympathetically, but held onto the table on his right for stability. He was losing a hell of a lot of blood.

Rosalie was visibly unharmed, but she looked like a ghost. I wanted to believe he would never hit her or hurt her, but after what I just saw I worried…

She was scarily skinny now, like a waif, and her hair was white as snow. Purple circles seemed etched under her eyes and her sharp bones looked like they were going to puncture through her milky skin.

Her eyes noticed the blood on him, but she met his eyes unfeelingly before her gaze floated toward mine.

I was locking eyes with a stranger.

"Hey angel!" I breathed nervously, tentative as I reached out for her.

I tried to keep the expression on my face and the tone of my voice neutral so I didn't spook her.

She allowed me contact with her, so I threw my arms around her shoulders and squeezed, but she was just so cold.

My daughter was a stranger.

She was a tragedy.

"Are you going to the hospital?" I asked Emmett as he turned away from us.

He nodded, stumbling a little into a side table as it scooted across the floor with a scrape.

"Easy." I murmured.

Rosalie didn't even acknowledge what happened.

"Your driver's taking you?" I asked.

He nodded again, right before his eyes went out of focus like he was disoriented.

Obviously, Rosalie was my daughter, and I loved her unconditionally, but I could see she'd hurt him and I wanted to scold her but I couldn't.

I didn't have the stomach for it.

I reached out for him, but he stumbled back, clearing his throat.

"I got it." He mumbled before tossing on a jacket with a hood and ducking out the front door.

After he left, Rosalie looked around at the war zone that they'd created in the desolate silence. Something was brewing in those mysterious violet eyes.

"Rosalie?" I started, looking toward her.

"I guess Em will call someone to clean this up tomorrow." She said removedly.

"Why were you fighting?" I asked, scared to ask.

"I…" She frowned. "I don't really remember."


	38. Hardest of Hearts

Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing some more things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 **Hardest of Hearts: Florence + the Machine**

 _There is love in your body but you can't hold it in_  
 _It pours from your eyes and spills from your skin_  
 _Tenderest touch leaves the darkest of marks_  
 _And the kindest of kisses break the hardest of hearts_

 _There is love in your body but you can't get it out_  
 _It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth_  
 _Sticks to your tongue and shows on your face_  
 _That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste_

 _Darling heart, I loved you from the start_  
 _But you'll never know what a fool I've been_  
 _Darling heart, I loved you from the start_

 _But that's no excuse for the state I'm in_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Wheels Turning**

 _Present_

My fingers curled around the wheel, and I pressed into my wrists as the road stretched long ahead of me.

It was the second hour of our trip back to New York, but Emmett and I hadn't spoken a word to one another for probably six to eight hours.

After what happened in the grocery store, Vera and I had gone to find him and John. When I found him, it was like nothing had happened, but he was avoiding conversation with me at all costs.

His smile was tight, and his eyes had a veil in front of them. I couldn't decipher any of his thoughts because he wasn't giving me any cues.

I told him I thought we should go back to New York, and he just nodded with a little smile.

We'd packed up our things without a word, but we said our goodbyes to Vera, John, and Henry.

Saying goodbye was honestly a lot more emotional than I'd anticipated. I looked into Henry's sweet little eyes, seeing those darling dimples on his cheeks, and that wild, curly hair on his adorable head.

I tried to photograph him in my mind, and even though I'd sworn to visit and Vera had sworn the same - I cried when we left.

Emmett though was removed and distant, which was far from his character. The little smile he wore scared me, because he wasn't in it. He didn't seem like he was behind his eyes, and I was wondering where he'd gone…

But, I didn't know what to say to ask him about it, so we began our trip back to New York without talking about this life-altering event…

My _mother_ was having a baby.

Well, I say life-altering, but maybe it really wasn't. I mean, she and Diane would raise the baby in Paris. They'd be thousands of miles away - they wouldn't want me to be a part of their little family. Would this even affect us in any real way?

Honestly, probably not, but the real effect was on our own morale and hope toward starting our own family.

Alice had just had a baby. Emmett's sister Maria had sworn not to have another baby until we did a long time ago, so they'd be closer in age, but I knew she and Lorenzo wanted another so badly they couldn't stand it - and their youngest daughter wasn't even a toddler anymore. Bella was having a baby in another six months. My mom was having a baby…

I must admit… I felt a lot more desperate when everyone around me was just popping out babies. It made me sad at first, then I got angry… Now though, I could only describe the prevailing emotion as desperation.

In the beginning, Emmett was convinced he was the reason we weren't having a baby. He was convinced that it was his 'fault' but as time passed and we visited more and more doctors, it became apparent and obvious that it was mine.

Even the new age 'doctors' and witches and healers and whatever and whomever we saw, they always looked at me and said 'I don't know what _your_ problem is' and it killed me.

But, after a long while. I got pregnant… Colette was a miracle, and I'd taken so much care of her. Emmett and I had begun to relax, thinking that was it for us. We were finished waiting.

Then, the improbable and impossible happened.

Right before I left, Vera helped me realize something though. It was such a simple thing - but it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I'd gotten pregnant once. That meant we could do it again…

My desperation for a baby made me think less and less about things like timing, but I really knew right now wasn't half as perfect as it had seemed in the past.

Getting pregnant with Colette had just happened at the _perfect_ time. The timing was just perfect.

Selfishly, I loved the idea of all of my family and friends's focus being on me and on _her_. When she was born, she would've been close enough in age to Maria and Enzo's daughter to be the 'baby cousin,' but still old enough to play with and grow up with.

She would've been close in age to Alice and Jasper's daughter so they could grow up together. And, even if Edward and Bella had this baby now, Colette would've been close enough in age to play with, but old enough that she and I would've gotten that glorious attention and adoration that I craved from my own father.

Now, if I had a baby _today_ , they'd have an uncle their age, a cousin that overshadowed them, and a grandmother just five years older than their father. It would be a very unique family culture for a child to grow up in, but was that bad?

I knew it was incredibly stupid to think about age mattering, especially after all Emmett and I had been through.

Twelve-ish years was really not that big of an age gap for _us_ , and it didn't ever seem to be an issue until babies were involved - then, all of a sudden everyone had something to say about how I was too young for kids and that's why it wasn't working out.

But, Em just turned 35 in August… He'd been ready for kids for a while. Not that he rushed me, but… I just - it was different than if we'd both been 23. Our timelines were just a little out of whack.

My mom was going to be 40 in May, so no, she wasn't 'too old' to be having kids. In fact, she was at a perfectly fine age to have a baby, but most people believed 40 was the max so I guess I didn't blame her for wanting a Hail Mary attempt at being a real mother to a child she now seemed perfectly ready for.

I had just been such an accident and a mistake when she was just 18, so really _I_ was the awkward peg of age that it all boiled down to.

She wasn't ready for a child at 18, but my father, at 23 was. He was the one that insisted she have the baby. He was the one that interviewed all of my nannies and tutors. He was the one that got up for me in the middle of the night. He was the one that raised me.

In a way, he'd pushed her into having me, so who was I to blame her for resenting that and not wanting to raise me?

My mom just wasn't _ready_ for me…

So, maybe this would be good for her. Maybe she'd get herself together now that she had a tiny human so vulnerably dependent on her. She and Diane loved each other and they were good for each other. This was the life my mom wanted to live.

Could I blame her for wanting a child now? I guess she was ready in a way that she wasn't before.

I was lost in thought that I didn't even notice that now, Emmett was speaking in heated and swift Spanish.

Emmett had his laptop on his knees and his phone to his ear as he sat slightly turned away from me. That'd been his posture for the entirety of our trip. He was avoiding talking to me and I knew it. He had been doing work for Carlisle that a first year could have done.

He stayed busy and occupied so that he wouldn't be trapped in the car with me, forced to talk about this. He'd been talking to Carlisle in legal language and jargon I didn't understand, and it was far removed from shedding any insight as to what had been going on in his mind.

Now though, he was speaking in Spanish, and I could tell by his tone he was being more forthcoming with his emotions and thoughts in response to my mother's news.

There seemed to be thousands of friends and family and friends of family and friends that became family that he would speak Spanish for on occasion. I didn't think twice about it honestly, and I never got upset that I couldn't understand.

However, it was recognizable when he was talking to his mom or Maria because they would speak a little more 'Spanglish' than anything so every so often I'd get a few words and phrases from them in English.

I understood a lot more than I let on though, and this was the one secret I kept from him.

I'd started trying to learn Spanish for him right when we got married, and honestly, since I knew French I thought it'd be a lot easier than it was. Sometimes it was relatively simple, but it was the Cuban Spanish and the colloquialisms and idioms I had trouble understanding and translating in real conversation.

At first I was trying to learn as a surprise because I loved him, so I never asked for help, but now, I was learning Spanish as a secret.

I realized after I got back from Paris I could get away with understanding a few things when his mother and Maria would talk badly about me in front of my face.

I'd never tell him I knew they hated me and wanted him to leave me. It'd break his heart.

Now, as I listened to him speak in Spanish and only Spanish, I knew it wasn't Maria or his mother on the phone. He was speaking full, Cuban Spanish, and I heard the ghost of a feminine voice on the other line. He was fast and heated and full of colloquialisms I couldn't dream of picking up with my limited understanding.

But, I didn't have to understand a word to know who he was talking to.

He was talking to _Pilar_.

It'd been a while since they'd talked. At least, that I _knew_ about… I knew he talked to her around his birthday every year because that was also the anniversary of them journeying to America together.

He'd talk with her when I wasn't around, and at first it bothered me, then I realized that was something incredibly impactful that they shared and I could never understand.

They were like 'war buddies' and I knew talking to Pilar and remembering who he was and how far he'd come was necessary for his survival, but it always made me feel so distant from him.

I was a jealous girl, and I hated anything that pulled his attention from me, but this was one of those things I knew was not up for negotiation. So, it was always just something I never asked about and he never told me about. It was always a private conversation and it was always never brought up again.

I gripped my hands around the wheel until my knuckles turned white.

I picked up a few things he said to her here and there, piecing together his anger and frustration. He didn't want to go back to New York. He asked her if she could fly out. Apparently, she couldn't because he asked why and told her he'd pay for it.

I clenched my jaw as I stared straight ahead.

Pilar had come to our wedding, and she'd seemed like the happiest, proudest person there, but she'd called me Baby Rose, even then. She congratulated us then kissed my husband on the cheek like it was second nature. I knew that it was meant as an innocent and plutonic gesture, but I still wanted to kill her.

Emmett had assured me a thousand times that Pilar was just like a sister to him, but I knew he'd slept with her. I wasn't stupid.

I also wasn't naive enough to believe that he'd never been with anyone but me, but the fact she was so close to a part of him I'd never know had always bothered me.

Right after our wedding, Pilar had moved to Miami. When she moved, Maria had made an innocent comment in passing about how Emmett and Pilar were so codependent that she wondered if Emmett'd even know how to tie his shoes without her here.

That wasn't lost on me. I didn't understand his relationship with her, and I'd never tried to. I knew if I did, I'd just make myself miserable with jealousy and fixation.

So, I just tried not to think about it.

I heard him tell her he was miserable. I heard him tell her I was in the car next to him.

That rubbed me the wrong way, like something was so private he couldn't even say it in front of me in a language I didn't understand.

I frowned.

Then, he sighed, and after goodbyes, he tossed his phone down in his lap. He kept his eyes fixated on his laptop screen as he started to look busy.

I spoke anyway, because I was bubbling over.

"You should be with Pilar. Life would be easier for you." I said venomously, trying to keep my face as stoic and icy as possible.

"Rosalie, for Christ's sake would you _stop_ it?" Emmett groaned in absolute exasperation.

His annoyed defensiveness panicked me, but I clenched my jaw and stared straight ahead

"You lash out any time you think you're vulnerable."

"I do not." I protested, furrowing my brow.

"Yes. You do." Emmett said intently. "You're doing it right now. You're pushing me away so I won't get the chance to leave you."

I didn't say a word.

"It's true." Emmett's voice was smug and victorious. "You know it is."

"Why can't you talk to _me_?" I asked, sounding a lot more scorned than I'd anticipated.

"Because it's something you don't want to hear." Emmett said in a sharp challenge.

"But, you'll tell another woman that you have history with… that you've _slept_ with?" I went on. "Why did you even talk to her in front of me anyway? You know I hate that!"

"Rosalie!" Emmett snapped at me. " _Stop_!"

"No. I absolutely have a right to…"

"Am I supposed to tell you that I hate your mother?" Emmett raved. "I hate her _and_ her baby."

I kept my eyes down, a pit in the bottom of my stomach. He was speaking all the words that had been pent up just moments ago, and boiling over like an unwatched pot. He was outpouring in a way I'd wished for before, but now I was wishing he'd take back.

"Then, I hate myself for wishing terrible things for her, because that's just downright cruel, and because that's your mother, and that matters to you even though I wish it wouldn't." Emmett stayed sharp.

"I honestly don't even know why it does anymore to be quite honest. I'd think you'd be able to see that she doesn't care about you, Rosalie. She doesn't."

The words stung no matter how much I'd thought about the truth of them.

If my own mother couldn't want me and love me, who could?

I clenched my jaw resolutely.

"I'd feel bad about saying all that if it wasn't something you should already know." Emmett tossed his hands up, before slamming his laptop closed. "She _doesn't_ want what's best for you, Rosalie. She doesn't. In fact, she probably doesn't even think of you at all. You're nothing to her so I don't know why you keep hanging on."

My body betrayed me and my eyes started to produce tears. I tried to will them away, gritting my teeth and taking a deep inhale.

"You treat Elizabeth so terribly and she wants so much to take care of you and nurture you and love you. And your dad, for Christ's sake, Rosalie… Robert's cut out his own heart and given it to you, yet you won't even make the time to see him anymore. He's tried to love you and take care of you. Elizabeth's tried to love you and help you and take care of you. My mom's tried. Alice's tried. Edward's tried. _I've_ tried to take care of you and love you… Anyone that wants to do that gets the worst of you, Rosalie. I understand how badly your mom messed you up in the beginning not being there for you, but there are so many people who want to love you that you just…" Emmett growled, not noticing the tears beginning to make their way out of the corners of my eyes.

"You just push people away so that they can't hurt you like Camille did. I'm not letting you do that to me anymore." He said strongly, putting his hand on my thigh.

I didn't flinch away because I felt the contradiction of perfect, understanding tenderness in his touch.

Nevertheless, I stared straight ahead, but I saw out of the corner of my eyes that he was looking at me.

"I'm not sorry for saying all that, Rosalie." Emmett said, evenly. "I wish I was."

I swallowed, hating him in this moment as my head felt like it was going to explode from all of the thoughts pounding in it.

"I know." I breathed, saying the response to more and more as my brain began to sort through all of his heavy words.

"But, Rosalie… I'm missing you." Emmett's hand felt heavy on me as he tried to grab my hand.

He gave up when I kept my fingers gripped around the wheel.

"Vera was talking about how babies don't exist to fill your life or cover any holes left by something else, and _my_ gap is you, Rose. I miss you. I miss you so bad. God, Rose, I just want you back. Stop giving yourself to people and things that can't love you like I can. I want to love you again. Let me. Please." He was begging, and pleading with me in a way he'd never done before, and I heard so much sorrow yet so much determination in his voice.

I allowed myself a quick look at him, and I wish I hadn't. His sincerity burned my eyes like I'd just stared into the sun.

I blinked as I looked back at the road.

"I hate what she did to you." Emmett mumbled, brushing my hair behind my ear. "But, Rosalie, I wish you'd hate it too."

I clenched my jaw.

"Please, Rosalie?" He expanded. "You aren't your past. If you heard anything from me these past few weeks, I hope you heard that. You don't have to be what raised you, and I don't want to fight with you about holding on to it anymore."

 _I looked down into my coffee, hoping for the perfect words to appear in it, floating clearly like an alphabet soup._

 _My mom sat across from me at the café, and she tossed her scarf over her shoulder glamorously in this moment, rambling on about some art director talking to her about something she found important._

 _There'd been no perfect moment all weekend to tell her my news, and my time was running out. I'd flown to Paris a couple days ago, itching to tell my mom. I was overjoyed, and I wanted to share this with her._

 _I wasn't sure how she'd react, and honestly I thought about how she would lean toward a negative reaction, but I tried to imagine something different to will that more positive future into reality._

 _"Mom, I have something I really need to tell you," I began, my face flushing and my knees bouncing nervously._

 _"Don't mumble, Rosalie." She sighed, correcting my French._

 _"I'm pregnant." I smiled happily._

 _My mom was silent, just staring at me with large eyes and a blank face._

 _"Are you serious?" My mother finally spoke, her voice sharp as a whip._

 _"Yeah… Yeah, I am." I put my hand on my stomach lightly, my cheeks flushing excitedly at the idea of something growing inside of me. "I'm having a baby."_

 _My body was amazing._

 _Her eyes darted down my body then met mine again coldly before pushing away from the table.._

 _She slid past me wordlessly, storming out of the café._

 _I threw some money down on the table._

 _"Mom?!" I called, panicking as I followed her._

 _I finally caught up to her, pulling on her arm so she'd look at me. She shook me off, but stopped so I could talk._

 _"Mom, I wanted you to…" I started, mumbling because I didn't know what to say._

 _"I've never even met him, Rosalie. Don't you think that's sad? You can't have a baby with him." She gasped._

 _I frowned, thinking about all the times I'd tried to get her to meet him. Emmett and I had even flown to Paris. She just hadn't called me back, and she said she was in Bali._

 _"I've tried to…" I mumbled._

 _"I don't want to hear it." She held up her hands, making a face._

 _"What are you talking about?" I puzzled, and watched her cross her arms over her chest to pout._

 _"Truthfully, Rosalie I think it's a terrible idea to have a child." She wrinkled her nose._

 _"Okay… Just… Just let me explain." I tripped over my words._

 _"Explain what? This is just another impulsive, reckless, stupid decision you've made." She scoffed. "Typical."_

 _"Typical?" I frowned._

 _"Yes, Rosalie. It's typical of you to make decisions like this to give you an excuse to run from your potential." She scolded._

 _"I don't…" I started, furrowing my brow._

 _"Think about all you could do professionally, Rosalie." She pressed. "Your career is just beginning! Why would you want to throw a stint in it?"_

 _"It's just for a little while. Plenty of models do it." I argued._

 _"It's not the same…" She frowned, no doubt imagining all the ways I ruined her life._

 _I sighed._

 _"I knew this would happen. You shouldn't have gotten married. I knew this was coming." She groaned like this was the worst fate in the world._

 _I certainly didn't see it that way._

 _"I always wanted to be a mom someday." I tried to qualify._

 _"Yes, ONE day." She over emphasized. "This is not the right time, Rosalie. You've worked too hard to ruin it over some… some baby."_

 _"It's… It's my baby." I swallowed, feeling defensive over that little bean in my belly._

 _She shook her head, scoffing._

 _"You're making such a stupid decision." She took the tops of my shoulders in her hands, the closest thing to any sort of affection I could receive._

 _"No, Mom, I'm happily married and Em really wants a baby and we…" I started with a smile._

 _But, her face didn't let up its intensity and I felt my smile fade._

 _"Don't do this, darling." She said, stroking my cheek and I leaned into her touch._

 _"Well, it's done." I chuckled darkly. "I'm already three months."_

 _"It doesn't have to be. You can take care of it. I'll make the appointment for you." She said, reaching down for her phone. "I'm sure someone would still do the abortion for the right price."_

 _"Mom, no." I frowned, grabbing her wrist to stop her._

 _She pulled away from me with a huff._

 _"Rosalie, I'm your mother and I'm telling you - don't do this." She seemed to beg me, her eyes fiery and intense._

 _"I want to, Mom. I really do." I tried to reason with her._

 _"I'm going to be honest with you because no one else will be." She rolled her eyes, not listening to me._

 _My stomach twisted in anticipation, and I waited with open eyes and ears as I looked over at her._

 _"You're going to be a terrible mother." She said, staring straight into my eyes and speaking with intention._

 _"What?" I had heard her; I was just shocked. "Why would you say that?"_

 _"You didn't exactly have anyone to show you, now did you, kid?" She said tapping my chin condescendingly._

 _"No, but…"_

 _"But, what? You're going to do exactly the opposite I did for you?" She challenged. "You say that now, but we're doomed, Rosalie. We're doomed."_

 _My bottom lip trembled and I wished for her to take it all back._

 _"My stupid whore mother had a different dumb boyfriend every week so she couldn't pay attention to me unless she got jealous or angry enough that they'd ask her pretty little girl to sit in their laps so they could brush my hair, or would climb into bed with me to 'tuck me in.' So, I did it all on my own; made it work all by myself." She told me things she'd never told me and it made me want to reach out and hug her if she wasn't so cold and had that icy look in her eye she always did._

 _"I swore I wouldn't be the mother she was, but look at me." She snorted._

 _I felt tears start to race down my cheeks._

 _"Don't you start with the tears, Rosalie. You know how I hate that." She sighed, rolling her eyes._

 _"S-sorry." I sniveled, only fighting the tears harder._

 _"You'll swear you won't be the mother I was, but you will, Rosalie. You will." She spoke it over me like a curse._


	39. Beige

Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE! You have no idea how emotionally taxing this chapter was to write, and I really had to pull from somewhere down deep. I promise to stay more regular with my updates!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing some more things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 ** _Beige - Yoke Lore_**

 _Tell me something I don't know and lead me to the place where no one ever goes_

 _Let me go under your skin, and let me find the demons that drive those heavenly limbs_

 _You know you're beautiful_

 _But that ain't half the gold treasure in your soul_

 _What you got cause I want it all_

 _With your fingers in my mouth I fail to see your faults so please don't let me fall, please don't let me fall_

 _I think we'd survive in the wild_

 _We would eat plants and roots and dream about electric fans_

 _But baby could you kill a man, could you look in his eyes and feel the fire drain out of his hands_

 _And baby do you think about the past, do you wonder if every stupid little thing has led us to this_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

"Emmett, would you _calm down_?!" I asked with wide eyes and a racing heart.

That was a phrase I never thought I'd have to utter.

We'd gotten back home just a half hour ago, and as we started to unpack, he found out about all those photos released of us and the story Alice had published in VOGUE. My mom's news hadn't been the breaking point, but for some reason this was.

Emmett was in rare form after that and I watched the light get sucked out of his eyes as he looked at the words. He raged on, swearing he was going to ruin my old publicist's life and make Alice regret what she did, but I couldn't find it in me to be angry like he was.

I was confused as I tried to think about which of us was being the irrational one.

I probably should be angry about this, but for some reason it all seemed so stupid and minor…

He paced through the bedroom now, speaking on and off in angry mumblings.

Emmett seemed for the first time since I'd known him utterly _out of control._ He seemed like he was spiraling, and I wondered if he was finally just bursting after the pressure of all he'd held back, even in front of Vera.

No, I wasn't naive enough to think we'd never have another problem the rest of our lives, but I just assumed things would be safe and easy for a little while at least. I thought we'd be able to get back on our feet, but another wave just sent us tumbling back down.

Emmett was raving, but I'd begun to tune out his words. In my mind, he was thousands of miles away.

Then, I was alert and attuned to him as I jolted back into reality. He sank to the floor and hit the side cabinetry with a thud, ripping me from my thoughts.

I didn't immediately respond as I processed, my concern grew as I watched him duck into the siding, his hands shaking as he tried to catch his breath.

"Hey! Em, what's going on?" I panicked.

I'd never seen him like this. Honestly, I'd never seen _anyone_ like this.

I reached out for him, but he cringed away from me, his hands at the level of his eyes defensively.

Adrenaline and nervousness pumped through my veins as I worried about him, thinking that if the roles were reversed he'd know exactly what to say to me and do for me.

I just sat down next to him, waiting with my breath held in my chest painfully. My hands trembled and I wished so badly I had the wisdom I needed. But, the best thing I could do though was just be near to him.

What seemed like an eternity and a millisecond later, he pulled away from me, climbing up out of the floor like it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

"Hey, talk to me." I encouraged, standing back up to my feet to follow him.

He propped his hands on the counter, hanging his head and closing his eyes. He was breathing heavily and I watched the tension in his shoulders rise as I put my hand on his back.

"Emmett, you're scaring me…" I mumbled.

I didn't know how to help him… It killed me.

"Shut up! Shut up. Shut up." He gasped out, jerking away from me, like my hand on his back was something disgusting to be avoided.

I clenched my teeth together and watched him. He looked like a stranger.

My bottom lip trembled at his harshness, and after a long moment, he spoke.

"I… can't focus." Emmett said in a pained and shaking voice.

I remained silent, but stood solidly next to him.

He frowned, seeming to strain to untangle whatever was happening in his head.

"I… hate… feeling… out of control." His eyes glued shut and his knuckles white on the counter's edge.

"You're not. You're right here with me. You're right here, and everything's fine." I said the first thing that came to my mind.

My voice sound breathy and unsure, and I knew without a doubt that I wasn't saying some magic words to make him feel better, but nonetheless, he exhaled to let all of the tension out of his shoulders.

His knuckles weren't white anymore as his fingers released their tension.

"I'm not." He said through gritted teeth, then he exhaled another round of the tension he was holding.

Now maybe, he could relax.

"Yes, you are." I said, reaching out for him.

This time he let me, and I ran my fingers through his raven black curls.

"No, Rosalie, listen to me. _Please_." There was desperation in his voice that I'd never heard.

At this, I clenched my jaw, staying silent as I ran my fingers through his hair.

He took a deep breath, and I noticed my hand in his hair was turning into more of a soothing gesture.

"I'm not fine." He admitted like it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. "I'm not. I'm really not fine."

I was speechless, and I wished I wasn't. It killed me to think of all the times he'd known exactly what to say and exactly what to do.

This _one_ time he needed me.

"You will be." I promised, my voice heavy with the weight of my sincerity.

He turned and wrapped his arms around me, crouching to duck his head into my shoulder.

"It's okay." I whispered in a barely audible and shaky voice as I ran my hand through his hair, then down his back.

He breathed into me, and I shivered at the warmth on my neck.

"I just wanted to protect you." He mumbled. "Protect _us._ "

"I know." I said assuredly.

"I couldn't." He swallowed. "I hate that everyone… everyone knows… or… or thinks they know what…"

"It's not a big deal, Em. It's really not." I tried to assure him.

He didn't say anything.

"I don't care what anyone's saying about us." I promised, running my fingers across his back.

He remained wordless, and I wondered what was brewing in his mind.

"But, you do?" I prompted, with the hint of a question in the inflection of my voice.

Emmett sighed now, pulling away from me and running his hands through his hair stressfully.

Then, he shook his head, denying that cause.

"Then, what is it?" I pushed, my hands in nervous fists beside me.

After a long pause, Emmett's eyes met mine. Then, right before he spoke they fell back down to the floor.

"I… I'm scared." He admitted to me in the utmost confidence of our home.

I was intimated by his dark, intense gaze, and the words he'd never once spoken before.

"I'm scared of losing control." He halfway growled. "I…"

"It's okay if you do." I assured him, reaching for his face.

He shied away, turning so I couldn't look at him, like he was ashamed.

"I don't want to be my father. I don't want to do that to you. I'm so scared that… that that's inside of me, and I…. I can't let that out." Emmett mumbled nervously.

"Emmett, that's not you. Your father was sick, and you're not. You're not. You're okay. It's okay to be upset over things. It's… normal and _rational._ "

He seemed to mull these words over, a slight furrow in his brow.

"I know that, but I still…" Emmett ran his hand through his hair.

"I know." I nodded, assuring him that he was understood, and he didn't have to say any more.

"I haven't been treating you fairly…" Emmett swallowed.

"Emmett…" I lingered.

"No, I really haven't." He exhaled. "Because… Because I tried to control _you_ once _I_ started feeling out of control, and I… I wasn't as upfront with you as I could've been."

"About what?" I tried not to panic.

"I… I wanted to teach Colette Spanish." Emmett looked back at me, and I had no idea where this was coming from.

Her name stung in my ears just like it seemed to sting coming off of his tongue.

He swallowed like his throat was sore.

"Okay?..." I just nodded, waiting.

"I've been so afraid of being my father for so long that I distanced myself from everything… from Cuba… from myself… I lost… I lost so much." Emmett said, and I couldn't follow him as coherently as I would've liked.

I frowned a little, trying to understand.

"I didn't know what I was losing." He mumbled. "And… And, it's something you can't understand…"

Emmett was vibrating with nervous energy, but he seemed so much more confident exposing his darkness to me.

I nodded, wondering what it was that I wouldn't understand. I held on to his words in anticipation.

"There was a time when I stopped speaking Spanish all together because… because I was trying to fit in here so much, sure, but really it was to distance myself from my father. I wanted so much to be as far from that as possible that I'd sacrifice that part of me…"

Emmett ran his hands through his hair, pacing a little. I didn't know what to say.

"I can't explain it, but… but it's like I've… I've cut off my limbs and I'm trying to sew them back on or something…" He mumbled. "I didn't realize what just talking about this stuff was going to make me remember…"

"Okay…" I hoped he'd expand and try to keep explaining, because I was extremely confused.

He sighed, making it obvious he was trying not to keep me in the dark.

"I… I… I changed my name because I loved Peter, and I wanted to show him that I loved him. But, if I'm honest, more than that, I changed it because… because I wanted to get away from anything that connected me to my father. Maria didn't know what her Cuban name connected her to. She was too young…"

I watched the depth of his big brown eyes multiply exponentially.

"But… More than any of that I… I… changed my name because of what I knew it could do for me." Emmett spoke, and a sour look crossed his face. "I was only fifteen, but… but I knew I could pass as _white_ with a name like this. I could… I could not have people assume things about me just because of the name on the top of my application. I could not have my teachers standing over me when I was taking a test, or sending me to the principal's office to redo an assignment just because there was no way I got that good grade all on my own, or combing through my papers and assuming every other word was plagiarized because I couldn't have that advanced of an understanding of English… I… I could not have to do a Ricky Ricardo impression every time I entered a room, or… not have people ask for immigration papers when I'm a teenager out late at night or have cops follow me around a store because they're afraid I'm stealing something, or not have people ask me about recommendations for Mexican food when I know _nothing_ about Mexico. I could just…"

My throat was tight as I listened to him. I was blindsided and overwhelmed, though I'd been around long enough to see that he lived a life I couldn't ever begin to imagine.

The first time I saw it, completely uninhibited, was the night we were telling his parents we were pregnant….

Emmett was on the corner talking to his mom and explaining directions on the phone because she and Peter had gotten lost.

I'd planned to meet him over at the restaurant since I was coming from a meeting.

 _"Why don't you learn some English?" This drunk man spoke venomously, in a group of chuckling drunk friends._

 _His eyes were focused on Emmett with so much hate in them, and I was overwhelmed, tears pooling in my eyes as I paused before walking up the rest of the way._

 _Emmett just turned his back, continuing to pace with the phone to his ear, undisturbed as he spoke Spanish into the receiver._

 _"Yeah, go back to wherever you came from," The man waved his arm, dismissing._

 _I couldn't handle it and I stormed up._

 _"You can't talk to him that way." I started, pushing on the man's shoulders._

 _"Rosalie," Emmett scolded sharply, taking my arm, and trying to pull me along. He spoke quickly into the phone, hanging up._

 _"I'm so sorry, sir." Emmett said under his breath, apologizing for me as he continued to pull me along._

 _"No!" I squealed, fighting against him. "_ He _should apologize to_ you _."_

 _"You need a handle on your pretty little green card girl," The man sneered, elbowing his friends._

 _I whirled around absolutely irate, but Emmett picked me up from behind like I was a rag doll, yanking me back._

 _I was seeing red._

 _"Rosalie!" He was angry with me and I stopped fighting him and let him put his arm around me as his parents rounded the corner, waving at us._

 _They were blissfully unaware as to what had just transpired, and Emmett had pretended it hadn't even happened._

 _"He just hates you for no reason," My lip quivered, unable to drop it._

 _"Hey, it doesn't matter." Emmett brushed my hair from my face._

 _"What if someone talks to our kids that way?" I panicked, thinking of our unborn child's raven black curls, olive skin, and big brown eyes as I touched my hands to my stomach._

 _Emmett looked at me tragically and sighed, but ultimately didn't answer as he turned to greet his parents._

He seemed to be visiting the same memory, or at least knew that's where my mind had gone.

"I didn't want Colette to understand _that_ part…" Emmett mumbled. "But, I… I wanted her to know she had access to every single part of her identity. That part of me, I didn't think I wanted. I was… I was afraid of it…. I still am sometimes, but… but I wanted her to know who she was and who I am and… and where she came from. I… I messed up so bad denying that part of me, and… and with her I wanted to fix it. I know it's wrong but I wanted to make things right…"

"I know." I swallowed. "I don't understand, and I can't empathize, but I… I know."

Emmett just nodded.

"I was trying to blame things on you, and I was trying to redirect and just focus on what you should've done with your mother, and how I imagine you should react to this, and I…" Emmett cleared his throat and I watched his eyes get glassy.

"Rosalie, I just wanted you to detach from your mother like I did from my father, when I… I tried to pretend that it was just black and white with my father, like what I did to detach from him was as easy as stepping on American soil. It wasn't. It's not as easy as I made it out to be."

"I think I was wrong… Detaching from my father the way I tried to do it wasn't good. It was like cutting off my own arms and legs, my own identity, my memories, everything… just to get him out of my life. I don't want that for you. You can deal with this situation however you think you should."

He trailed off, but I didn't know what to say either, so we sat in silence for a long moment.

"I know it upsets you... I wish it wouldn't but I'm sorry I called Pilar. I just… I didn't know who else to…" Emmett mumbled.

I stayed silent, darting my eyes down to the floor and hating her more with each passing second. I tried to remain stoic and rational, but I felt my ears get hot.

"Rosalie, I meant what I said to you at Vera's." He started intensely, grabbing both of my hands. "You are my home now."

I could feel a _but_ was coming and I clenched my jaw.

"And nothing changes that, but…"

Here it was…

"But, Rosalie… Before you… I was… I was just downright aimless because… because I didn't know…" He sighed. "I didn't know how to be _me_ without being… _everything_ from Cuba. I didn't know what home even was, and if I did, it was too far away anyway. It was like… like having a floating head with no body or something, I was just… not right."

His abstractions painted incredible pictures and images, and I understood, but sometimes it felt like his abstraction was another filter between his feelings and what I got to hear and observe.

"The day I told you I loved you - Mardi Gras you remember?" He twisted his fingers around mine.

I nodded slightly, bracing myself for more. Where was he going with this?

"That morning, I… Pilar and I…" He started.

I felt nauseous and I didn't want to hear any of it.

"I can't do this." I mumbled.

"Rosalie." Emmett sighed. "Listen, P said something that day that really… really liberated me, liberated both of us from this super unhealthy and codependent relationship we had going on. I needed to be freed so I could actually be who you thought I was."

I bit my lip so hard I thought it'd start to bleed.

"Well… P told me the only reason we were hung up on each other was to be reminded of home, to justify our nightmares, and know that what happened to us was real… And, Rosalie… That's still how it is and it's still hard for us some days.… Especially on certain days of the year, or when things happen to make you remember or forget... Talking to Pilar reminds me of Cuba, and… I've always… I… I've always been afraid that losing my connection to her means losing my connection with Cuba."

I nodded my head, swallowing as his reasoning was illuminated.

"But…unlike my father… It's a much safer and surface level connection to my home, to my childhood, to my ancestry and everything about Cuba I loved. The white sand, the sun, the skies, the music, _all_ that made me who I am…" Emmett swallowed.

I couldn't understand so I couldn't be angry. I felt so trapped, and I was shaking with energy that I didn't know where to place.

"She's taking her kids to Cuba next month…" Emmett said. "She's already been back three times."

"She is? I mean she has?" I prompted lightly, trying to think if I'd ever known that she'd had kids.

I mean, she was my mom's age so… Of course she had though - everyone in the free world was having babies but me.

Emmett nodded, and I watched an expression start to spread across his face that I didn't understand.

"Do you want to go with her?" I asked, thinking that's where he was going with this.

My voice was more strained than I thought it was going to be and I wished it hadn't been. My stomach dropped the floor.

"No." He frowned and shook his head. "I… I had this… this stupid idea that…"

"What?" I prompted.

"I… I never wanted to go back before. Not until… until… until maybe you and I take our kids… Maybe I could show them where I grew up… Maybe…"

His maybes were heavy and I tried not to bend under the weight of them.

"I just… I called Pilar because… I just thought maybe… I mean…"

I waited.

"You wanted to know if she'd heard something about your father?" I eventually asked, taking a shot in the dark.

He sighed. I was right.

"I mean, people go back and forth between Cuba and Miami all the time for their families. And… People talk. I just…" He trailed off.

"She told me I had to ask specifically if I ever wanted to know something…" Emmett's voice was pained and unsteady, and I looked at him with wide eyes.

"And did you?" I asked.

Emmett nodded.

"What'd she say?"

"She said she couldn't tell me in person, so I told her I'd fly her to New York, but she can't… So…" Emmett spoke evenly, but there was an odd look in his eye.

"What'd she tell you?" I asked, an odd pit in my stomach.

"He's um… He's been dead for twenty years. She didn't know how he…"

"Oh Emmett…" I exhaled, throwing my arms around him.

He stiffened in my arms, not responding to my embrace. I just hugged him tighter.

"It's been twenty years so… It'd be stupid to be sad about it." He mumbled. "I didn't even know before, and I lived a totally normal life."

"Emmett, that's your father. It's okay that…"

He didn't say anything, and I wondered if he _felt_ anything.

"I really am trying to be sad about it, but I just can't." Emmett mumbled after a while. "I'm just… I'm angry."

"Wh-Why?" I frowned, puzzling.

"Seeing your mom do what she did to you - to _us_ … It was just evil, and awful, and… And… She did it on purpose. You know she did… God, I can't think about it any more…" Emmett was now shaking with anger in my embrace, and I tried holding tighter to him to stop it.

I was no match for his anger though.

"But hearing what Alice released about us, and seeing all those pictures… God, Rosalie… I can't handle it." Emmett was breathless.

"What?" I prompted.

"It's all not fair." Emmett breathed and I ran my hands through his hair.

"I know…"

"What if we _never_ have kids? What if I never get the chance to… to fix all this?" He finally relaxed into me. "What if… What if I can't undo it? What if my father's really dead and _I_ was the one that killed him?"

"Emmett, that's ridiculous." I swallowed, but I wasn't sure I believed it.

I clenched my jaw, trying to fight the tears I knew were coming. I hated hearing his hopelessness. He was never hopeless. He had never spoken such fear into the air. It passed through me like a chilled phantom and I prayed the desolation wouldn't possess me.

"I made him disappear!" Emmett raved. "He told me not to leave, and I did! I did… And… And he died when I changed my name. It can't be a coincidence… I killed him!"

"Em…" I protested, but he wasn't having it.

"When Vera asked what I was trying to make Colette take the place of… I… I didn't know… Then, Pilar told me about my dad and… She told me and I know it's ridiculous but… I put so much pressure on Colette to… to reconnect that part of me I'd… I'd _killed_ …"

"And, and I miss you, but I miss _me_ … And, I know it was me… that part of me and my father and Cuba that I can't get back, and… and Colette can't and we can't get her back and maybe it's my fault because I put so much pressure on her…"

"She can't because she's… because she's dead and he's dead and because…"

Emmett wasn't breathing right, and it terrified me. I watched him with wide, paranoid eyes as he curled into my shoulder.

"Because I severed that part. And… And I lashed out at you because… because I thought about how awful your mom is and how even as terrifying as my father was - I knew he loved me. He would've done anything for me, _anything_. He loved me, but I _still_ left him. And your mom left you… And… And you were just a kid, and she… she _left_ you!"

"But, your mom… Rosalie, it's absolutely mind-blowing how much she doesn't care about you. It kills me. She doesn't care about you at all. And, even though you care about her… And… And she never showed you how, but… you know how to _love_ people better than anyone I know…

"And… And, you deserve to be a mother because you would be such a damn good one. You'd always make our child feel loved and… and it's not fair, and… Alice shouldn't have released all that about you… about us because… People think they understand us and what we've gone through, but… but they…"

"Emmett…" I spoke to stop his overflow. "Emmett, I'm sorry."

Now, he looked at me, our eyes meeting and locking with iron tethers.

"I'm messed up, Rosalie." Emmett shook his head.

"No, you aren't." I assured him.

"I am. Really, I'm so messed up. I tried so hard not to let you see it before. I've been holding onto it because… I can't… I don't…Why… I just…"

He was starting to sound nonsensical, and I stopped him - he didn't have to say anymore.

"Emmett…" I brushed his unruly hair off his forehead and he sighed.

"It's a terrible feeling being this helpless…" He panted in uneven breaths, looking into my eyes, seeming to grasp for them.

"Hey, hey, listen… I'm your wife. You're my husband. Any problem you face, I face with you." I quoted his own words back to him in my shaking and trembling voice. "Okay?"

"What are we going to do?…" Emmett whispered.

"What do you mean?" I asked softly.

"What are we going to _do_ , Rose?"

"I…" I started to say I don't know, but I stopped myself.

"We're just going to keep going. Because we have a damn good reason to."

He waited, his brown eyes wide.

"No one is as in love with each other as we are." I told him with wisdom I didn't know I had.

My heart raced.

"You think?" He looked at me with inquisitive eyes.

"I _know_." I told him, reaching out for him and this time he really let me.

His cheeks were hot as I ran my fingertips over them, and he ducked his head into my shoulder where he cried and cried and cried.


	40. Shrike

Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

HAPPY HALLOWEEEEEEEEEEEEN!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing some more things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm also writing Rosalie's birthday partyyyyy yay!_ _I'm also exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 ** _Shrike - Hozier_**

 _Driving alone, following your form_  
 _Hung like the pearl of some prey you had worn_  
 _Remember me love, when everyone_  
 _Is the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn_

 _I fled to the city with so much discounted_  
 _Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now_  
 _Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted_  
 _Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now_

 _I was highest by your warmth_  
 _And I was transformed_  
 _But your gounded and giving_  
 _And darkening scorn_  
 _Remember me, love when I'm reborn_  
 _As the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

I didn't know we'd been asleep until there was a knock on our door that woke us both up with a jolt.

Emmett peeled himself out of the floor, soberly hating the vulnerability he'd shown me, and now in the light, he refused to show it again.

But, something was different. I'd never felt closer to him. He was here. He was with me.

As he hopped to his feet and bounded toward the door, he ran a hand through his messy hair before opening the front door.

I was disoriented, not knowing what time it was as I ran my hands over my face, pushing my hair back and climbing out of the floor. My body ached from sleeping in such an odd position and I grimaced as I massaged my neck with my fingers.

"Oh thank God!" My father's voice rang from the door, snapping me fully awake. "Is she here too?!"

"I'm right here." I called, and as he rounded the corner, I'd never felt happier to see his ashy blue eyes.

Though, at the current moment they were full of worry and concern.

"Everything's fine." I assured my father as I tossed my arms around his neck.

My father stiffened under my embrace, and I realized how strange this must be. I thought about the last time I'd hugged him - really hugged him and it made me sad.

But, like riding a bike, my father remembered what it was like and pressed his hands on either side of my face as he pulled away from me.

"I didn't know what…" He looked into my eyes, switching from iris to iris as if he was trying to figure out who I was.

I wasn't a stranger, but I realized to him I might've looked like one - or like someone he'd known years and years ago, but couldn't remember.

I wondered what he found in my eyes that made him look away now, toward Emmett.

"I'll let you…" Emmett trailed off, and I noticed how disoriented he still was, purple circles framing his dark brown eyes.

"No… Stay." My dad reached out his hand.

Silence pounded in the air and I noticed sunlight was pouring in the windows.

It must be morning… Or late afternoon? I had no idea.

How long had we slept?

Emmett did as he was told, but shut the front door and averted his eyes.

"I heard you were back." My dad started. "Your housekeeper said you had her scheduled today so I thought…"

I nodded, remembering Emmett working on scheduling while we were in the car.

"I've been… calling…" My dad said, stroking my cheek, still not believing I was standing in front of him it seemed.

Emmett stood straight up, seeming to grimace as he straightened out his crinkled bones after sleeping in the floor.

"I know… We… unplugged." Emmett said, seeming to still be getting his bearings. "I was going to call you on our way back."

"What's been?…" My father seemed overwhelmed with the pursuit of information to fill in the blanks we'd left him with.

"Everything's okay, Robert." Emmett assured him, and it made me exhale with relief to hear him say these words.

Maybe we both believed them now.

"You've been gone for three weeks. I think there's a need for some…" My dad started, eyeing Emmett expectantly.

I couldn't think straight enough to do anything else, so I just tossed my arms around him again and hugged him tight.

"I missed you." I mumbled into his chest.

I noticed my father look Emmett's way for an explanation, but Emmett kept his eyes purposefully away.

I swallowed, feeling disjointed as I tried to merge the present reality with my father's memory of me.

I didn't realize how far that person had been until I saw it in his eyes.

"I'm glad you're back." He said, kissing the top of my forehead tentatively.

"You've gotten some sun." He noted.

I closed my eyes, wishing I didn't have to explain anything, and he would just automatically _know_ and understand, but I sighed.

"We needed to go… We saw a doctor, and… and I needed her help." I explained.

Emmett looked over at me, his eyes dancing over me in questioning.

"I did too." Emmett mumbled, keeping my gaze confidently now even with his red, tired eyes.

"Good… Great. I mean… I'm glad." My dad stumbled over his words a little, something brewing behind his eyes.

There was a slight silence, right before my dad burst.

"Why didn't you call me?" He asked in an accusatory tone, his voice shaking, but I noticed he'd excluded me from the conversation again.

His sharp eyes were directed toward Emmett, like he was the only capable adult in the room. I realized he had been for a year. I'd been the patient for a year now. I'd been the toddler they needed to take care of, and always had to coordinate on how to do it. Emmett was my translator and spokesperson, and I hadn't realized just how much until now.

"It all happened so fast." Emmett mumbled.

"Well, don't you think I should know that my daughter's in trouble?"

"I thought I had a handle on it, and we just decided last minute to see the doctor, so…" Emmett began again.

"I know you think you don't need anyone's help with her, but Emmett, I've tried to tell you I want to! You can't keep her locked away from me!"

"That wasn't my intention at all." Emmett protested with wide eyes. "She was safe, Robert, I…"

"I should've known that! It's been almost three weeks since I've even known you two were alive!"

"I know… I should've…" Emmett went on, his head down as my father scolded him.

"Dad, I should've called you." I said.

Emmett's gaze shot over to me, along with my father's.

I swallowed.

"I had a really… exceptionally awful few days and Emmett didn't really have any other options but to take me to see a doctor he'd heard about in Tennessee." I explained.

"Tennessee?!" My dad's eyes went wide.

"Yes, and we drove so we could talk and make a trip of it." I nodded, furrowing my brow as I thought about how I couldn't really explain very eloquently what exactly Emmett and I had experienced in Tennessee.

All I knew was that time had passed, and things had changed when I woke up.

"You let her drive a car?!" He gasped toward Emmett again, out of habit I suppose.

"She said you taught her." Emmett backed away defensively.

"She _drove_?!" He gasped. "Another reason to worry about her!"

I chuckled at this, but he wasn't joking as he spoke out of habit like I wasn't even in the room.

"Dad, it was fine." I assured him.

His eyes searched my face, but I didn't know what he was finding.

"You can't just… disappear. You should've at least…"

"I should've told you." I nodded. "And, I should've told you about fashion weeks. I know that was… unprofessional and…"

I nervously swallowed the lump in my throat at this. I wondered if he was disappointed in me.

"I know you're disappointed in me." I cleared my throat.

He looked over my face, furrowing his brow.

"I could never be disappointed in you, baby." He said tenderly, his hand on my cheek.

His fingers on my face were a great comfort and I thought of a thousand monsters that he'd slain with his strength and comfort as I grew up.

This was just another monster, a big one, a real one, but a monster it was, and he was my dad. He could slay my monsters.

"Rosalie, you are my greatest joy." My dad began. "You are my brightest star, and my most valued treasure. I could _never_ be disappointed in you."

I noticed those dusty blue eyes start to glisten, and my bottom lip began to tremble.

"I was just scared… I was very scared I'd never see _you_ again." He mumbled, making it evident that he didn't just mean just my physical shell, but the person I was behind all that.

"I'm sorry." It was all I could say, but it was just exactly what I needed to say.

For _everything_.

"Hey, stop that. Don't apologize." He furrowed his brow, brushing my hair back from my face. "You did the right thing. You did what you had to do."

"We did." I corrected with a little sigh.

"Yes, you both did." My father nodded.

"I was too far gone. I couldn't have come back alone. I needed help, and… And I know I've got the help I need. I… I'm very supported in New York. It's my home. You're here, and Em's parents are here, and… our friends, and… And, I'm ready now to accept that. Em and I… we went through something horrible, that no one else understands, but… but we can't pretend we're alone anymore."

It seemed to be the magic words that I didn't know existed.

Emmett snapped his focus to look at me, swallowing.

I looked back toward my dad and a wide smile spread across his face, every care in the world seeming to melt away like ice in the spring.

"Okay." He smiled. " _Okay_."

I exhaled, a thousand pound weight seeming to lift off my shoulders.

Emmett seemed to exhale in unison with me, and I found myself reaching for his hand.

"We're having a party…" Emmett said with a small grin as he squeezed my hand then started a pot of coffee. "Like we used to, for Rose's birthday."

"That's in three days." My father raised an eyebrow.

"It's last minute, but we can… we can throw something together." I shrugged with a little smile, handing Em a cup from the cabinet.

He seemed to be shocked I knew where it was, and I had to admit I kind of was too. I never spent any time in the kitchen.

"Oh my God, now you've really gone insane." My father joked, but still eyed us curiously. "No party planner in New York will help you this last minute."

"What about Elizabeth? I know she did some party planning in Chicago." I suggested.

My father and Emmett both looked at me like an alien was inhabiting my body now.

"I… I can ask her." My dad stumbled over his words as Emmett handed him a cup of coffee. "Thank you."

"That'd be great!" I smiled, trying not to acknowledge the oddity of my behavior.

"Well…" Emmett had a little protest in his voice, then I remembered that the last time he'd seen Edward, he'd laid him out.

Oops.

"He's forgotten all about it, I'm sure." I dismissed, knowing I'd talked to him and at least knew he wasn't holding onto any crazed animosity.

"Who's forgotten about what?" My dad raised an eyebrow.

"Well, have you seen Edward lately?" Emmett asked, eyeing me before looking back to my father.

"No. We talked on the phone a few times, but no, why?"

"I um…" Emmett cleared his throat. "I don't think Elizabeth or Edward would want to help me."

"Emmett, that's ridiculous. It's not a big deal." I disagreed.

Emmett looked at me with wide eyes.

"What happened?" My dad asked.

"The last night we spent in New York, Edward said… said some things about Rosalie… and…" Emmett mumbled, obviously full of remorse. "And so I knocked him out. I shouldn't've but… I did."

My dad laughed, not a sign of offense in his expression.

Emmett and I exchanged a look.

"Thankfully they're not helping you, Emmett, they're helping Rosalie." My dad said, obviously in good humor about this. "I'm sure it'll all just be water under the bridge in no time."

Emmett shrugged, taking a drink of his own coffee - Cuban of course.

"Well, I guess you're right." Emmett chuckled a little. "If his nose isn't broken… I know how he is about that pretty face of his."

I laughed fully at this and I noticed all four eyes were on me. I tried not to acknowledge just how long it had been since I'd laughed in front of anyone.

My dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders though giving me a squeeze as if he was trying to bottle it up.

"Do you think we could do macaroons at the Palm Court, like we used to?" He asked, his eyes brewing with anticipation like he was afraid of my answer.

"I'd love that! I haven't had a macaroon in ages." I sighed, thinking about my favorites, and losing myself in a daydream over the last birthday brunch I'd had at the Palm Court with my father…

I noticed the dimples on Emmett's cheek before he turned away.

"I'm about to get ready to head to the office and catch up on some things." He said, running his hands through his hair.

I wanted him to stay right here with me. Right when I'd gotten him back, he was leaving again.

He must've seen something on my face that indicated I was pouting because he reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear.

"I'll be home for dinner." He assured me.

"Let's go out to dinner." I suggested. "Give Jacqueline another day off."

Emmett swallowed, something in his eyes telling me he didn't like that idea very much.

"Rosalie, I don't think we should be…" He cleared his throat, and my dad looked over at him before looking at me.

"Have you…. have you seen any news lately?" My dad questioned lightly as if he was siding with Emmett.

I just nodded, clenching my jaw in determination.

"Yes, and so I think the best thing for us to do is to be seen together." I said resolutely. "The two of us need to get photographed smiling and happy doing just normal things together again."

Emmett looked at me with his tired eyes, as if we was willing me to change my mind even though he knew I wouldn't.

"Okay…" My dad looked at me with worry in his gaze.

"Are you sure?" Emmett asked, questions in his gaze.

I nodded, very sure.

"Yes. Emmett, we need to do that. Especially right now."

He sighed.

"Fine."

"What about your parents' restaurant?" I asked.

"No!" He responded swiftly. "I don't want cameras there. Rose, please, don't tip anyone off to that. Let that stay mine, please…"

I saw the pleading in his eyes, and immediately regretted suggesting it.

"Rosalie…" My dad scolded lightly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think…" I mumbled.

"Speaking of your parents, I hate treating you like a child, but you're married to mine, so you need to call your mother." My dad said to Emmett.

"Okay." Emmett furrowed his brow.

Something was happening in his eyes and I didn't know what it was. He was obviously thinking hard when he sat down on the barstool and started biting his nails mindlessly.

"She's been absolutely inconsolable about you being gone. She and your father probably called me twice a day to see if I'd heard anything from you."

Emmett just nodded.

I guided his hand away from his mouth, and he clenched his hand into a loose fist as he looked back up to conversation.

"Do you think she knew?" Emmett asked me and just me.

His eyes were on fire and he was shaking with energy.

"What are you-?" I started, but didn't need to finish my question.

Emmett waited.

"I don't know." I mumbled.

My dad eyed me in questioning, but I couldn't explain yet.

"I'm going to shower." Emmett said, turning on his heel, dismissing his interest and investment in the subject though I knew that he was genuinely curious and wanted to know if his mom knew that his father had died and had kept it from him.

"Emmett…" I stopped him with my arm, and he met my pleading eyes.

"I've gotta go, Rose, but I love you." He said, kissing my cheek swiftly before actually heading out of the room now without deepening into the previous subject.

As soon as he got out of earshot, my father looked at me. Without even needing to ask, I knew he was curious.

"He… He found out his biological father died. Twenty years ago in Cuba." I explained quietly. "I guess he's wondering if his mom knew and if so why she didn't tell him."

My dad's eyes searched my face.

"Oh…" He cleared his throat.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"A parent always just wants to protect their child. No matter how grown up they are." My dad replied, brushing through my hair in adoration and love.

I didn't understand through my own real experience, but I could only imagine…

"I heard about mom." I started, my throat tight and my eyes burning.

Now, my dad, the calmest, most rational person I knew had anger and rage in his eyes.


	41. Dracula's Wedding

Thank you for your kindness and love! THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS!

Here's a longer chapter! It's Rosalie's birthday party wooooooo! Next chapter is in Alice's POV

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing some more things in Robert's POV, some dialogue for Robert and Rosalie and Camille and Rosalie. I'm writing a scene between Emmett and Alice I might dive into a little deeper..._ _I'm also exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Dracula's Wedding - OutKast_

 _You're all I've ever wanted, but I'm terrified of you_  
 _See, my castle may be haunted, but I'm terrified of you_  
 _I've cast my spell on millions, but I'm terrified of you_  
 _Baby, I do this from the ceiling, but I'm terrified of you_

 _I wait my whole life to bite the right one  
Then you come along and that freaks me out  
So I'm frightened_

 _Dracula's wedding_

* * *

 **Bella**

 _Halloween; Rosalie's 23_ _rd_ _Birthday Party_

"We are about to walk into a den of blasphemous debauchery." Edward tugged on my hand as we emerged from the Lexington Avenue station into a world that seemed like an alien planet.

"On Park Avenue? That hardly seems possible." I rolled my eyes, but took my time observing the palaces of Manhattan royalty before shifting the plant to my other arm.

"When Emmett and Rosalie are in a good mood, debauchery isn't far behind." Edward shrugged. "They know how to party."

"So you think they're in a good mood?" I asked, wondering what that was like.

I honestly had no idea.

Edward shrugged.

"It would seem so. My mom said they spent close to $10,000 just on alcohol for tonight." Edward's eyes went wide and I almost choked.

" _What_?!" I shrieked.

"Yeah, like I said…" Edward chuckled. "Good moods! And, Rosalie personally called you to invite us tonight, and she didn't sound like a recording of a haunted Disney princess or something."

I giggled at this, but honestly that was exactly how to describe her voice the last time I'd seen her.

The buildings looked nicer and nicer as we walked in the crisp October air.

It was hard to even _imagine_ this much money.

I looked over at Edward with a chuckle, as his skinny white legs seemed to glow in the streetlights.

He was wearing super short golden yellow track shorts and white tube socks so his legs that had probably never seen the sun before were now on display for the world to see.

"What?" He looked back at me with a goofy smile.

"I like your costume." I winked and he rolled his eyes, but kissed me on the cheek nonetheless.

As we approached the biggest castle in the kingdom, Edward took a sharp right signaling this was where we were going.

I reminded myself not to look too in awe. I had to look like I belonged here.

As Edward pushed through the glass doors, the fancy Russian sounding doorman insisted on invitations and ID, which I found to be amusing.

But, Emmett was an attorney, of course all the I's would be dotted and all the T's crossed.

As we got in the elevator, the attendant pressed the button for the penthouse.

"This isn't real." I leaned over and whispered.

"Oh, but it is!" Edward said over-dramatically. "And, it's been a while since they've thrown a party so we're in for a treat."

I detected sarcasm in his voice, knowing that parties weren't really either of our scenes.

More than that, I started putting something together and came to a small realization. Even as much as Edward tried to remove himself from the Upper East Side and the network of people his mother, stepfather, Rosalie, and Emmett were so intertwined with, he always seemed to find himself pulled back in.

Was he just trying to remove himself because of me? He seemed genuinely happy and excited for this party…

I wondered how things would be for _us_ when Edward started working for Emmett. Would I have to come to lavish parties, wear dresses, and enjoy the opera? Would we have to send our kids to private school?...

I pushed the thoughts of jumping the gun from my mind. Edward and I would raise our kids in Brooklyn and we'd raise them how we wanted.

I cleared my throat trying not to make it obvious that I was lost in thought.

As the elevator doors opened, I was immediately transported into the atmosphere of a real life rap music video. Music with a lot of bass was playing, loud and dirty and everyone around me was gorgeously attractive.

Girls were wearing costumes that were barely clothes, showing off bodies that would've made me feel like a whale even when I wasn't four months pregnant. Everyone was dancing low and close and I had to remind myself to close my gaping mouth.

This room was _star-studded_. From athletes to music stars to actors to models, Rosalie and Emmett had quite the social life.

"So what do you think?" Edward had his nose scrunched, and looked at me expectantly.

"So fun!" I glued on a smile, trying to yell over the music.

He knew this wasn't exactly my scene, but Rosalie had personally invited me so he knew I felt obligated to go.

I couldn't disappoint her as soon as she'd begun to give me the time of day.

And, it was her birthday… And, we hadn't seen them both since that fateful dinner and since all of that stuff came out about them… And, Rosalie's _mother_. God, I could only imagine what they were going to be like when we saw them.

I didn't know what to expect if last time was just a "normal" Tuesday.

Edward didn't seem to worried and proceeded to try and immerse me in a culture I felt estranged from.

"That's most likely our future governor." Edward nodded toward a man dressed in a toga and doing a line of coke on the table, ripping me from my thoughts.

"Good." I nodded sarcastically and Edward laughed.

"The girl on top is in on the board of the Junior League." He nodded to a girl dressed as Daphne straddling another girl dressed as Velma as they kissed so passionately, there were no guarantees that the costumes would stay on. "She's married to that other guy."

I nodded.

"That guy over there was in charge of a billion dollar corporation at 17." He leaned over, and I followed his gaze to a guy in a devil costume with a woman on each arm.

"New York's finest." Edward grinned sneakily. "What'd I tell you?"

"A den of blasphemous debauchery as promised!" I confirmed with a grin.

"Hey!" Alice said, appearing with a plate full of food.

She was dressed in a mustard yellow sweater, a neck scarf and a beret with a black form fitting skirt and some t-strap high heels. Jasper appeared in a vintage suit and fedora.

"Bonnie and Clyde!" Edward guessed and Alice did a happy ta-da twirl.

I instantly relaxed as she handed me a tiny sandwich. She put me at ease wherever we were and I grinned as she and Jasper approached.

"Thank God this is a room full of skinny women that think they're fat!" Alice yelled, putting another bite in her mouth. "They never eat the food!"

I laughed with her and felt much better now that we had each other.

"Wait… let me guess?" Alice tapped her finger on her chin, narrowing her eyes as she looked between Edward and I.

I thought this costume was obvious. I held up the Sunny-D bottle and she still didn't get it.

I guess I sort of did dress like this in real life… But, I got a t-shirt with horizontal stripes for this!

"Juno and Bleeker." Edward said with a chuckle.

"Oh… I just thought you went out for a run and forgot the party was today." Jasper teased, eyeing Edward's short track shorts.

Edward shoved him lightly and playfully as they chuckled, horsing around.

"Look at your cute little baby belly!" Alice squealed, immediately placing her hands on my stomach. "I can't believe you're already what, six months?"

"No, just four." I snorted.

She wasn't the first to comment on how abnormally huge I was for just four months… I know it was innocent, but still. I felt extremely unattractive and fat and I was never one of those girls to feel vain, but I'd never felt this awful about myself.

"Oh. I'm losing my mind, sorry." Alice wrinkled her nose in apology.

"Where's Rosalie?" I asked Alice, who was now staring very conspicuously at Harry Styles and his girlfriend.

Her eyes tore from them reluctantly and she shrugged.

I just nodded, my stomach knotting as I thought about how hollow her eyes were and how broken she'd looked when she showed up at our apartment to apologize to me just a month ago.

"We haven't seen her yet, but she's got to be around here somewhere." Jasper's eyes danced around the star-studded room.

I noticed he and Alice looked intensely nervous.

Was that Taylor Swift?!

"I hope she's doing okay. I haven't seen her in a month – since we all had dinner." Alice sighed. "I tried calling and texting her like a million times, but…"

"You mean to tell me that you haven't talked to them since?…. Well, you know…" Edward said with wide eyes what the both of us were thinking.

"No! Should I be scared?" Alice swallowed.

Edward and I both shrugged.

"I called Emmett this morning, and he said they just got back from Tennessee." Jasper said in a low voice.

"Oh…" Alice furrowed her brow. "Why? Wait… Did he say anything else?"

Jasper shook his head, and they exchanged a look that showed they were communicating through glances as only they could.

"You mean you didn't ask him?…"

"No, I didn't ask him how he and Rosalie felt about my wife outing their darkest secrets."

"Jasper that's not…." She argued.

"I know. That wasn't your intention, but you know that's got to be how they see it." Jasper said, putting his arm around her.

Alice was shaking in her boots, and honestly I would be too. She tried to tango with Rosalie by releasing all of that private information about her. Knowing Rosalie for only a night, but hearing about her through Edward made me realize that there was no way she was okay with what Alice did.

I was shocked she'd even invited Alice honestly.

"I just hope she's okay…" Alice pursed her lips. "I mean…. I really hope she doesn't kill me with her bare hands, but really I just hope she's okay. You all heard about what her mom did right?…"

"Oh… _she's fine_." Edward started laughing, amused.

I looked at him with an odd expression.

"FINALLY!" Jasper was obviously excited, following Edward's gaze.

"You have been trying to get them to do _Scarface_ for YEARS." Alice was laughing, happily, exhaling in relief.

There was something in her voice that was lighthearted but wistful. The excitement was not just that they'd taken his cheeky, bold costume suggestions, and I followed his pointed fingers to the other side of the room.

Elvira Hancock was dancing on a table, gracefully moving like liquid as she grinned, her long blonde blunt bobbed hair with bangs flowing around her.

Tony Montana lounged in a nearby chair like a throne, watching her with a prideful lopsided grin, before she hopped off the table and came down to her feet.

She put a hand on either arm of his chair, settling to her knees between his open legs as she bit her full, rose colored bottom lip. He sat forward, taking both of her arms and pulling her up to her feet with him before he kissed her.

As Emmett's hands made their way to Rosalie's hips, I knew why Emmett let her get away with murder.

Her body was unreal.

 _Unreal._

It almost hurt to look at her, especially when she was smiling like that and dressed like _that_.

She conquered Michelle Pfieffer's Elvira Hancock in a way that made me think Rosalie even did it better.

She wore that iconic slinky jade blue dress with spaghetti straps and a deep V neckline and as she reached to throw her arms around Emmett's neck, I saw the open back of her long dress that showed more of her perfect shape.

She kissed him with her rosy pink lips, leaving a little color behind as he pulled away with a laugh.

He tugged the end of her shortened blonde hair in teasing and she laughed along with him, letting him twirl her and take her hand to start swaying and dancing in a comically old-fashioned and polite manner to the dirty rap music playing in the background.

She looked up at him with wide, beautiful eyes as they spoke to _just_ one another and I saw for the first time the undeniable connection between them. Watching them was like staring into a flame – mesmerizing, but slightly too bright so it hurt your eyes.

I didn't recognize her. She was _far_ from the person she'd been just a few weeks ago.

I didn't recognize him either, but the change in Rosalie was just… _Astounding_.

"Oh my God!" Alice half-groaned, half-squealed.

Even though I didn't know Rosalie and Emmett _before_ , the way they looked at each other was world's different than the way they looked at each other just a few weeks ago, and I knew that _these_ were the two people I was _supposed_ to meet.

Edward and Jasper smiled.

"This… This is what they were like before. This… This is the Rosalie and Emmett you should have met." Jasper said almost proudly.

Before I even asked if she wanted to go say hey, Alice took my hand guiding me through the sea of people.

"I can't go alone. She could still murder me." Alice said seriously, shooting me a look.

I gulped, following Alice until we were eventually standing in front of Rosalie.

Her gaze was still intimidating, but her big violet eyes didn't seem so… vast and abysmal as they finally met mine.

She looked like an entirely different person, and not just because she was in costume. She seemed to look more like herself in this moment so it got me thinking that maybe she was in costume that first time I met her.

Whatever happened in Tennessee really agreed with her; Emmett too.

"Hey!" Rosalie's voice tinkled like bells and she threw her arms around my shoulders.

"I'm _so_ glad you came!" She said into my ear, and I got a chill down my spine.

"Happy birthday." I tried to say before she pulled away, her hands lingering on my shoulders before she wrapped her arms around Alice.

The entire group of people exhaled in relief.

Alice hugged onto Rosalie like a family member you haven't seen in a while that you missed with every part of your heart.

"Did you cut your hair?" Alice squealed not seeming to know what to say to her.

We all were hanging on with anticipation.

"No, it's braided up under here." Rosalie laughed. "It's just a really good wig."

She clung to Alice, saying things to her privately with wide, open eyes.

"Juno!" Emmett grinned toward me, guessing immediately and I did a celebratory twirl.

I noticed immediately that his eyes were present, and that he wasn't the person that had absolutely lain my boyfriend out on the floor a couple weeks ago.

This made it easier to look at him.

"Say goodbye to the bad guy." I quoted Scarface, trying to make conversation.

It was hard not to notice his unbuttoned white polka dotted shirt under his dark blue pinstripe suit showed off a gold chain with a crucifix, and what good shape he was in.

I almost blushed so I looked intentionally into his eyes.

"What?" He made a face, running a hand through his hair.

"You know, the movie? Scarface?" I immediately felt awkward and shot my eyes down. "You and Rosalie look great. I love your costumes."

"Oh, right! Right. I've never even _seen_ the movie. I'm not good at really even paying attention or sitting still…" He laughed and trailed off, a sparkle in his eyes that hadn't been there the other night.

"But, thanks. It was last minute so Rosalie and I just thought it'd at least make Jasper and Alice laugh." He shrugged.

I smiled, letting my eyes dance to where Rosalie was talking animatedly to Edward.

They were being more than pleasant to one another and Alice and Jasper noticed with wide, happy eyes as they all engaged in conversation.

"Bella, we have a lot to talk about and one day I hope we get to, but for now, just please know that I'm _so_ sorry about before." Emmett said, sincerely.

He looked like a scolded puppy and I felt a pit in my stomach. There was something about sadness in his eyes that looked so intensely out of place. He shouldn't be sad.

"I'm _really_ sorry." He put his hand on my shoulder gently and tentatively. "I wasn't acting like myself, but that's no excuse. You and Edward didn't…"

"I'm sorry too." I said with a smile that was full of complete forgiveness and understanding.

He knew I knew about his and Rosalie's past now.

With a nod, he signaled he understood, and my smile told him we didn't have to say any more.

All was forgiven. I was not one to deny second chances.

"Thank you." He exhaled.

Rosalie teetered on her high heels now, ripping us from our conversation as Emmett and Edward both reached out to grab her instinctually as she laughed at herself.

She was obviously drunk and looked like a baby giraffe the way she stumbled over her feet.

"Whoops." She giggled, blinking slowly with an untroubled smile.

Emmett and Edward's eyes met, and as Emmett set her back on her balance I noticed Edward still not saying anything to him. It was becoming blatantly obvious they weren't speaking.

But, the silence wasn't hostile. It was just… _full_.

Rosalie sighed, leaning into Emmett and he laughed, holding her up.

"God, you're _so_ hot." Rosalie bit her lip and tilted her chin down, grabbing on to the lapels of Emmett's suit and pulling him closer.

"Hooooly cow." Jasper widened his eyes. "Someone get Rosalie some water. She's got drunk goggles on."

"Shhh, Rose." Emmett half-scolded her as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders with a full laugh, swaying with her lightheartedly.

Based on her expression, he whispered something into her ear that pleased her.

She was being overtly sexual with no regard to the fact she was standing in the middle of her living room full of people and I felt the blush on my cheeks intensify.

I was never super comfortable with my sexuality and around Rosalie, how on earth could I have a hope?

Rosalie, _obviously_ didn't have that problem. She knew herself and she knew what she wanted and how her husband wanted _her_.

"Do you want something to drink?" Emmett asked the group, obviously aware of the awkwardness Rosalie had presented, but not having enough restraint to really care.

"Yes!" Rosalie squealed.

"Not you, gorgeous. You're cut off." Emmett laughed, kissing her hair as she hugged to his side sweetly. "And, it's not even midnight. What am I going to do with you?"

She suggested something too inappropriate for my mind to register as plainly as if she was talking about the weather, and my eyes went wide.

Edward cleared his throat and I blushed and looked away.

Alice and Jasper seemed un-phased, as if this were totally normal conversation.

"Rose, shhh you can't say stuff like that out loud in front of people!" Emmett actually blushed this time, and she pouted.

Emmett kissed her pouted lips as if he just couldn't stand that look on her face, even when it was in jest.

"Is that Post Malone?" I noticed over Alice's shoulder, wanting to change the subject but also caught off guard that Post Malone was standing in this apartment in street clothes and cat ears as a costume.

"Out of all of the celebrities here, _that's_ who you recognize?" Alice laughed and the rest of them joined in.

I knew they were messing around, and so I laughed with them.

I realized I suddenly didn't feel so on the outs…

"Bella, Bella, Bella…" Rosalie repeated my name with a dreamy smile.

"What? I listen to his music…" I shrugged.

"In a _million_ years, I would have _never_ pegged you..." Jasper shook his head with a chuckle and Edward put his hand on my shoulder, laughing with the rest of them.

"Come on, I'll introduce you." Rosalie took my hand with a smile and I planted my feet.

"No, it's fine." I swore my face turned scarlet but Alice egged me on, and Edward encouraged me with a laugh.

His eyes were cautious though and with just a look he communicated to me that I didn't have to go anywhere with Rosalie alone if I didn't want to.

"Okay." I finally exhaled.

It was useless to resist Rosalie anyway, and I followed her through the crowd until I met Post Malone.

He was just as I imagined, but maybe a little nerdier and he was very kind. Mostly, he just joked around. I watched Rosalie grin and chat easier than I ever would have imagined when I met her two weeks ago and it seemed to pain her to even introduce herself to me.

She was still introverted, and carried herself with almost… _Victorian_ manners, but she was much easier in conversation. It amused me.

I noticed back where were previously standing, Emmett and Edward were talking pleasantly.

I exhaled as I saw healing of ancient wounds between them happen within seconds. Men were funny that way.

Eventually, the four remainders of our group were laughing and cutting up. Edward threw his head back, laughing at something Emmett had said and Jasper was looking like he was the punchline of a joke but was in good spirits about it.

Jasper turned up a beer, nudging Emmett with his elbow.

It was nice to watch them like that, and I caught a glimpse of that family Alice and Jasper told me about. It warmed my heart and relaxed my tense muscles.

This all felt right.

After another moment, and a funny selfie that I knew would end up on social media somewhere, Rosalie took my hand and wove through the crowd with me.

"Do you really want something to drink?" She asked, practically screaming over the music. "There are plenty of non-alcoholic drinks I can have made for you. Or, if you're hungry…"

The rest of them were out of eyeshot now. Something about being alone with Rosalie absolutely terrified me…

"I brought _plenty_ of Sunny-D. Thanks though." I held up the bottle with a smile.

This was met with a laugh that was so beautiful I wanted to hear it again. When she laughed, it was so free that it separated her entirely from her pristine, perfectionist persona and I thought I saw down to her soul for a fleeting moment.

Then, it was gone. Even drunk, she had a surprising amount of control of her vanity and exterior.

"We should get you some water though." I insisted.

"I'm really not that drunk. I'm just having fun for the first time in a while, so everyone assumes I must be under the influence." Rosalie shrugged, but I didn't believe her so eventually, we sat in the corner of the room and she drank a whole bottle of water as I watched.

"How was your trip?" I asked, not knowing how to start a conversation with her.

"It was _healing_." Rosalie breathed, her eyes far off. "I don't know if you know Emmett and I went to see a doctor. We needed it. We both needed it."

I didn't know what say.

Then, she changed the subject.

"But, I had to get you alone for a reason, Bella." Rosalie said.

"O-okay." I said, my voice cracking.

Rosalie twirled the end of her shortened hair, biting her pouting bottom lip. She looked nervous.

"Bella, how much did Edward tell you?" She finally asked.

"Umm…" I panicked, not sure how I was supposed to respond. "I just… I."

"You know what. That's not important." Rosalie shook her head, dismissing. "I just need you to know one thing, and that is that Em is the most important person in the entire world to me."

"I know that." I nodded, my throat tight and my heart beating fast when she looked at me so unwaveringly.

"No, I need you to _really_ know that." Rosalie's eyes were intense and I thought my skin would melt under her gaze.

"I'd kill someone with my bare hands if he asked me to. _Just_ because he asked me to." Rosalie told me.

"And, I swear I'd enjoy every second of it. I'd revel in it; I'd go above and beyond. I'd let him watch me eat their heart like a piece of cake and drink their blood like champagne, just so he would know I did it for him and I'd do it all over again. _Just because he asked_."

I didn't know how to respond so I just nodded too quickly, my eyes wide. She spoke of such intense matters so easily and plainly that she made me realize that maybe they weren't actually in costume as Elvira and Tony – that their insanity for each other and how she'd kill someone for him wasn't a dramatization.

For a brief irrational second, I thought she really would kill me and I wondered if he'd asked her to and that's what this soliloquy was for.

I noticed I was leaning back from her a little.

She noticed too and exhaled, relaxing her intense gaze.

"But, the thing is he never asks _anything_ of me." Rosalie told me. "And the one thing he ever _did_ ask of me, I failed at… That's incredibly hard for me to process."

She said this cryptically, but I didn't want to interrupt that I knew what she was talking about. I couldn't stomach the way the words burnt my mouth if I tried to speak them.

"He… He wanted a baby, and at first… At first, I just wanted to make him happy." Rosalie said, and I had an urge to take her hand as I knew what story she was about to tell me and it didn't end happily.

I stopped myself of course though, but she noticed.

"I mean… Bella, you don't know him yet, but I hope you get to. When Emmett's happy… It's like the entire world is a different place. God, I can't even explain it Bella, it's like the _sun_ shines differently." Rosalie distanced herself now, looking away from me.

"But… I couldn't do it. I _can't_ do it." Rosalie cleared her throat, keeping her voice even. "And that's all he's _ever_ asked of me…"

"He loves you." I said plainly.

Her expression was grave.

"After all this, I don't know _how_." She shook her head, seeming to trail off. "But, he does. He loves me, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

I didn't know what to say.

"Nothing can justify what I said to you, but… I just wanted you to know I don't _hate you_. I just… I just _envy_ you."

"What?! Why?!" I breathed, absolutely incredulous.

Rosalie snorted.

"Bella, I'm not _smart_. I'm not interesting. I'm not spontaneous. I'm not a _fun_ girl." Rosalie said in a laundry list type fashion, and I noticed that for a brief moment, she looked… _insecure_.

"There's nothing that makes me the kind of girl you marry and settle down with and that terrified me when I saw _you_... Because you are. You are the kind of girl you marry."

"But, you're so… _beautiful_ and perfect and…" I began, trying my best.

Rosalie laughed without humor, then put her hand on top of mine.

"That is _nothing_ in comparison…" Rosalie said seriously. "Bella, Emmett is like you… He's brilliant and interesting and loves books I've never even heard of. It terrifies me that… I… I won't be enough for him. Now that all this dust has settled, I'm still afraid of that."

I saw the truth and sincerity in her eyes and it made me shiver. She retracted her hand from mine, denying me contact for too long with her.

"I want you to know… There's no excuse for what I did to you… I just… I lost my baby."

It hurt like a bullet in my stomach to hear it in her voice, the pain, the unimaginable heartbreak... It was all so evident in her voice, in her face, and in her eyes.

"And, in my mind… it felt like losing _everything_. It felt like losing Emmett, and Bella, I can't lose him. I can't." Her voice was soft.

"You won't." I assured her, even though I didn't have a very respected opinion.

She ignored me anyway.

"And, that's why when I felt that… that envy of you… I acted so heinously."

"I forgive you and I…" I started, my heart in my throat.

"But, I also want you to forgive Edward for how he acted if you haven't already. He's a very decent person, and I've been a thorn in his side for quite a long time."

I swallowed.

Her eyes darted over my face seeming to see that this had been something I'd struggled with recently. It felt like I didn't know him at all to see him act like that in front of her.

"He is usually very… _thoughtful_ with his words, so it did shock me when he attacked you like that…" I trailed off, feeling a blush on my cheeks as I admitted this to her.

"Edward didn't say anything to me that I didn't deserve a million times over." Rosalie said seriously. "I've treated him almost as horribly as I've treated Emmett."

I didn't know what to say.

"But I guess what I'm trying to say is… Bella, I'm really so happy for you and Edward about this baby. I know I'm… not the easiest person to get along with, but I really hope you'll find it in your heart to give me another chance because I want you to want to be in our family. I want you to trust me. I want you to want me to be a part of your life, and… and Edward's. He's the closest thing to a brother I have." Rosalie's words spilled from her mouth.

"I want to make it up to you, to be a sister to you - and that's something I've never had. I'm trying so hard to be better." Her violet eyes burned into mine.

My throat was tight and I didn't know what to say. In fact, I was overwhelmed with her openness and talk of _family_ , but luckily, Emmett and the rest of them found us in this moment.

"There you are!" Alice grinned, her eyes dancing back and forth between us.

Emmett came up behind Rosalie, and snaked his arms around her, kissing her cheek.

She whirled around, blissfully happy now and seeming to revel in his contact. She kissed him like she hadn't seen him in weeks.

"Have you had a good birthday, Rosalie?" Jasper asked as he approached and she grinned happily.

"One more year in the books." She smiled.

"You're almost halfway to fifty! A quarter of a century!" Jasper teased and Edward put his arm around me.

His eyes searched my face and I gave him a smile to let him know all was well.

He relaxed.

"Oh God, please don't let me get boring, you guys." Rosalie's eyes were wide.

"What?!" Alice laughed.

"Don't let me get boring as I get older." Rosalie repeated, crinkling her perfect forehead in worry.

"You won't get boring for another few years." I said with a wink, trying to speak over the Spanish music. "When you get to be _our_ age."

"Yeah, next year you're having a chess tournament party." Emmett joked with her and she rolled her eyes. "We'll all go to bed before nine."

He took her hand, twirling her into him so she was close as if to dance. Rosalie spoke some swift Spanish and he let go of her hand in pleasant shock.

He responded in Spanish, tilting his head to the side. His face was bright scarlet, blushing wildly. There didn't seem much in this world that would make his face flush so I could only imagine what she'd just said.

"I… I just memorized it. Was it right?" Rosalie's eyes darted down.

Emmett spoke Spanish back to her and she shook her head like she didn't understand. He leaned to whisper in her ear.

"Is _that_ what you meant to say?" He asked with wide eyes.

She nodded, totally casual, but there was a slight blush on her cheeks. Yep. It was dirty.

"Rosalie… You _know_ what you said. You didn't Google Translate _that_." He mumbled, but something about his facial expression made him look like a teenager that saw a dirty magazine for the first time.

"I did though." She seemed guilty, and he seemed absolutely enamored that she'd spoken Spanish to him, and that she'd said whatever she'd said.

Honestly, in this moment I was glad I couldn't understand.

As Emmett was distracted for a moment with something Jasper and Edward said now, Rosalie made a face to Alice and I.

"That was a close one." Rosalie winked.

Alice narrowed her eyes, wondering.

"I'm pretty much fluent. I just don't want him to stop talking to his family about me in Spanish. He'd know I understood all the horrible things his mom says about me to him right in front of my face." Rosalie bit her lip and I couldn't help but laugh.

"That's remarkable dedication…" Alice made a face, but ultimately was amused at Rosalie's commitment to this withholding of the truth for personal gain.

"I've become the embodiment of Lucifer in Emmett's mother's mind." Rosalie shrugged, explaining me their relationship. "That's the next person on my list of people to reconcile with."

Alice laughed uncomfortably at this, and Rosalie's hands drifted mindlessly to rest on my stomach.

I winced, not sure how she was reacting.

"How's my future niece?" She grinned.

"Oh, did Edward tell you it was a girl?" I still was holding my breath.

It wasn't lost that she'd said 'niece' though and it made my heart flutter to think about family.

She puzzled.

"We found out it was a girl on Monday." I responded.

"It was just a good guess." Rosalie beamed, rubbing a circle on my stomach proudly. "I am very good at guessing aren't I, Alice?"

"It's actually kind of terrifyingly accurate." Alice nodded with a laugh. "I'd swear it was witchcraft."

Rosalie laughed, seeming to be healthily talking about babies now.

"It's a little girl?" Emmett caught this part of the conversation, putting his arm around Edward's shoulder.

I grinned as attention shifted, and nodded.

"Congratulations! That's amazing!" Emmett squeezed Edward's shoulders, but I saw the ghost of the emptiness from a month ago still blatantly obvious on his face.

"Dance with me." Rosalie said, undoubtedly noticing the look on Emmett's face, and hoping to distract him.

I saw the shift in how now she was balancing him out instead of vice versa, and it was incredibly inspiring to see the intuitive way they protected one another. They were so in sync…

Maybe Edward and I would be like that to other people after a few years.

"Yes, let's dance!" Alice seemed to sense Emmett's darkness too.

Jasper twirled Alice under his arm and Edward put his arm around my shoulders, sitting down beside me as Rosalie took Emmett's cooperative hand as he finally led her out to the floor to dance.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, his eyes wide.

"Yeah!" I said, over-enthusiastically, almost too quickly so it sort of sounded fake.

"So you girls had fun?" Edward asked, partly joking, but still investigating.

"Yeah, actually we really did…" I nodded with a grin. "Rosalie's really… _cool._ "

Edward laughed at this, a full guffaw.

"Cool?" Edward raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged.

"I don't know?" I laughed with him. "She… She really opened up."

Edward took my hand to get me to stand and spun me into his arms.

" _What_?!" Edward took this seriously now. "What sorcery did you use for that?"

He looked down on me with big green eyes.

"I don't know." I shrugged, unable to explain it.

"Bella, she doesn't talk about _anything_." Edward said. "This is a big deal."

"At least I know she doesn't hate me." I laughed lightly.

"No one could ever hate you, Bella." He said with a smile and I got lost in his eyes.

I grinned in thankfulness as Edward took my hand and we swayed like a slow dance to the dirty rap music.

"I like your friends." I finally said.

"I'm so glad." He squeezed me tight. "Because they _love_ you."

I exhaled, happy for a moment of absolute bliss.


	42. Settle Down

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing the scene between Camille and Rosalie. I'm writing a scene between Emmett and Alice I might dive into a little deeper..._ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about too. also exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

 _Settle Down - The 1975_

 _A soft sound_  
 _To the way that she wears her hair down_  
 _Covering up her face._  
 _And oh what a let down,_  
 _And I don't seem to be having any effect now_  
 _Falling all over the place._

 _But you're losing your words_  
 _We're speaking in bodies_  
 _Avoiding me and talking 'bout you._  
 _But you're losing your turn_  
 _I guess I'll never learn_  
 _'Cause I stay another hour or two._

 _For crying out loud, settle down!_  
 _You know I can't be found with you_  
 _We get back to my house_  
 _Your hands, my mouth_  
 _Now I just stop myself around you._

* * *

 **Alice**

 _Halloween; Later_

"Okay, okay, okay. The game's about to start." I announced, as Jasper poured the last cup before passing it around the table.

"This one's yours." Rosalie handed Bella a cup of mineral water and juice before settling back down in between Emmett's knees and handing him his glass of whatever mixture Jasper had come up with.

I smelled mine, knowing the drink was strong by the loud smell.

All of us except Bella of course had a little too much to drink already, but we'd agreed to play drinking games because Emmett and Rosalie invited us to stay over.

Their apartment did have like 4 extra bedrooms, and tomorrow was Saturday…

At first we'd protested, but their extra bedrooms were fully stocked, better than a five star hotel, so Bella couldn't come up with an excuse and say she'd forgotten her contact solution or a change of clothes.

Rosalie sent someone out to get some contact solution for Bella, and a fresh change of clothes for all of us.

We were intent on staying up to watch the sun rise like a bunch of kids, so Emmett made coffee while the rest of us took a break to get changed out of our costumes and into something comfortable.

Emmett and Rosalie weren't very discreet about taking their break to do something else, and Bella and Edward came to our room because they were too close to the master bedroom.

Rosalie's guest bathroom had skin care products and perfumes galore so Bella and I played like little girls in them as we washed our faces free of makeup. It gave us something to bond over and I enjoyed getting to know Bella a little more.

A knock on our door from the housekeeper produced us with some clothes to lounge in and I almost died as I put on a Balenciaga sweatshirt the cost over a thousand dollars.

Designers sent Emmett and Rosalie clothes probably every other day just to get photographed in, so they probably didn't buy it, even though they most definitely could.

But the thing was, it wasn't her size, it was mine, so I died all over again. Then, I noticed Bella was in Gucci as I walked out into the living room. She didn't even know the value of what she was wearing, as she tugged on the sleeves. Bella was obviously insecure about Rosalie gifting her and Edward clothes and it was evident in her blushing face.

Rosalie had slid across the kitchen floor in her thigh high socks and she looked like an absolute angel in a hot pink sweatshirt dress and her hair in a high ponytail.

Emmett stopped her in her slide and swung her into his arms as she squealed.

I'd never in all of my life seen Emmett and Rosalie dressed so casually, and honestly it was alarming. It didn't seem like them to be so… _undone_.

They were so "buttoned up" on every occasion that I felt like I was intruding on their private life.

But, it made me exhale and feel like for the first time there was nothing about them they wanted to hide, from anyone.

The change in that attitude was unbelievable, even after the initial shock wore off and we were now gathered around a table.

Emmett wrapped his arms around Rosalie from behind and she leaned back into his chest now.

Emmett and Rosalie had housekeepers getting their house back to pristine conditions, working diligently around us.

Jasper put his arm around me, kissing my cheek as he returned to where we all curled up on the floor around a coffee table with drinks in front of us like a bunch of college kids.

"What'd she say?!" I asked about his call with the babysitter.

"The house is on fire and our daughters are strippers. Alec's run away with the circus. The usual." He shrugged.

"Jasper." I scolded, giving his shoulder a little shove.

"They're fine. They've been asleep for hours. Kari said she's fine staying overnight. I told her we'd pay her time and a half." Jasper said.

I figured the numbers and nodded in relief.

"Perfect." I sighed.

"I bet Edward's going to be the crazy one about picking out a babysitter." Jasper chuckled and Bella nodded like this was probably true.

"Alice interviewed like 57 baby sitters and nannies before deciding on one. I bet Edward's going to put your record to shame, Alice."

I laughed in obvious good humor about the whole thing. I did high standards for whomever would be spending time with my babies!

"If you need any help, I've got plenty of cards and contacts for a good nanny at least." I told Bella and Edward.

I worried about talking babies so publicly, but Emmett and Rosalie weren't even paying attention.

They were lost in each other in a way only they could be lost in one another. They spoke in low voices, their pupils dilated and drinking each other in, not daring to look away from the eyes they were locked in.

"I don't know if we will need a baby sitter or a nanny." Bella shrugged in response, and pushed her glasses up on her nose.

"Edward's mom and Robert are close. I don't really work crazy hours or anything…" She expanded, then furrowed her brow. "I grew up in daycare, and I turned out fine, so maybe if we have to…"

"And, Em and I are close." Rosalie said with a little smile in Bella's direction.

"Yeah, yeah you are." Bella said in a high-pitched voice, strain in her tone.

I couldn't figure her out.

"That's… that's perfect." I said, raising my eyebrows.

"But, we haven't really gotten that far - talking about what we want to do yet." Bella mumbled.

Edward's gaze shot around, anywhere but Bella's eyes. I knew they were ready for this next step just by the devotion that was obvious between them, but I hoped Bella would be made at ease by Edward and they'd be able to be open with each other.

Right before Rosalie and Emmett ducked into a kiss and we'd lose them forever, I called attention to start our game.

"Okay, let's play now! Everyone knows the rules right?!" I squealed.

Rosalie whispered something in Emmett's ear, still distracted.

He made a face, obviously not paying attention.

"Hey!" I called.

"Yes, Alice." Emmett sighed, reluctantly looking away from where Rosalie held his gaze. "Everyone knows how to play Never Have I Ever. We've all existed in the modern world."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he winked.

God, I'd missed him.

I was worried. So worried that Jasper and I would never see Emmett and Rosalie again. But, I also worried that what I'd done would be unforgivable. I mean… I aired their dirty laundry on an international stage.

I kept Emmett's gaze for a lingering moment, and as if he was reading my mind, I saw a little smile make those dimples appear on his cheeks before he looked away from me.

"Ha. I'm going to win." Rosalie smirked.

"Not necessarily. You do some pretty…"

"Emmett!" She squealed.

He didn't finish his sentence, but the smirk on his face made me think the rest of us would be glad of that fact.

"Plus, Bella might be a goody-two shoes that's never done anything." Emmett said in good humor.

Bella laughed, rolling her eyes.

"One thing's for sure though, _I_ always lose this game." Emmett groaned.

"Because there's nothing in this world you won't do." Jasper jabbed at him.

"Oh, shut up." Emmett narrowed his eyes. "I'm starting."

"Fine. You can start since you won't be in the game for long." I nodded, settling in beside Jasper.

Emmett made a face at me before starting the game.

"Never have I ever… Hmm…. Well, this is hard…" Emmett puzzled.

We laughed.

"Okay, never have I ever… sent a dirty text to the wrong person." He made a face in my direction, snickering that he'd retaliated.

I rolled my eyes, sighing before taking a drink.

Emmett laughed out loud and Jasper looked at me with an open mouth.

" _Him_ of all people, Alice?!" Jasper whined, and I tossed my hands up in surrender.

"Hats off to ya, Jazz." Emmett winked, and I couldn't have wanted the floor swallow me up anymore than I wanted it to in this moment.

Rosalie hit Emmett's shoulder, but then he saw her drink had a drink out of it.

"What?!" He noticed with wide eyes.

"Your mother…" Rosalie blushed.

"Oh my God!" Emmett put a palm on his face.

Everyone was laughing so hard I thought we'd split in two. It'd been a while since we'd laughed like this.

I watched Bella smile, and I exhaled, hoping she felt welcome.

"Okay… My turn…" Edward cleared his throat.

I could tell he didn't really like this game, having to be transparent or come up with really personal statements.

"Never have I ever been married…" Edward said lamely.

The four of us married people rolled our eyes, taking our drinks and protesting.

"That one was so _boring_!" Jasper said after he sat his glass back down.

Edward shrugged with a chuckle.

"I look at it as strategy, knowing what to say to get you guys out the fastest." He said.

"Smart." Bella smiled a little. "Okay, I guess it's my turn."

She bit her bottom lip and we all seemed to wait expectantly to see what kind of statement she'd come up with. Would she do a juicy one?

"Never have I ever… done heroin." She settled on something so outlandish that no one would have actually done it, so the opposite of Edward's strategy.

We all chuckled, but Emmett took a drink regardless.

" _What_?!" Jasper looked at him wide eyed.

"I was fourteen in Hunts Point. They gave it away like Halloween candy over there." Emmett defended with a laugh.

"Oh, of course. Naturally" Jasper tossed his hands up with a snicker.

After a pause, Jasper asked what we were all thinking.

"What was it like?"

"It was awful. I hated it." Emmett wrinkled his nose.

"What was it _like_ though?" I was honestly just curious for a first hand account.

"Have you ever done cocaine?" Emmett asked.

Rosalie's eyes widened.

"Have _you_?!" She asked wildly.

"I mean… yes?" Emmett laughed. "This is New York. Who hasn't?"

Rosalie shook her head in disbelief.

"No, I've never done cocaine." Jasper responded as if Emmett was speaking outlandishly.

I had. I fidgeted.

"So, I was going to say, it feels exactly the _opposite_ as cocaine - when you think you can take on the world and never slow down." Emmett explained. "On heroin, I felt like I was floating away like in a dream or something. I couldn't stop smiling, and I was so _calm_ … But, hell, I swear I itched half my skin off in one night."

"I mean… where do you even get cocaine?" Jasper asked.

"A _nywhere_." Emmett shrugged. "There's probably some floating around here somewhere after this party. Did you find any in the bathroom?"

"Emmett, for Christ's sake, I didn't know you were a drug connoisseur!" Rosalie exclaimed.

"What can I say?" Emmett took a pseudo-bow.

"Drugs aren't good for you!" She didn't seem to know what to say, obviously taken aback by this new knowledge.

"Okay, _Nancy Reagan_." Emmett teased.

I laughed.

"Relax, I don't even really like drugs." He assured her.

Rosalie furrowed her brow, but ultimately relaxed as she was told when Emmett kissed her pouting mouth.

"Another impressive American culture reference." Jasper noted.

Emmett narrowed his eyes, something in his gaze suggesting he was not up for teasing about that tonight.

I diverted quickly.

"Okay, it's my turn!" I squealed. "Never have I ever… had a threesome."

As I'd intended, Emmett lost another point. He kept his eyes away from Rosalie who looked over at him with a little concerned wrinkle in her brow, not taking a drink obviously.

But, I noticed an unintentional point had been lost… _Bella_ took a drink. Edward didn't.

I couldn't hide my gaping mouth.

Rosalie noticed too, and looked over at me with huge eyes.

She wasn't very discreet.

Bella honestly wasn't either because her face was red as a tomato.

Emmett didn't let it pass.

"Bella Swan!" He called her out.

She looked as if she could've died right there. The only person that was more taken by surprise was Edward.

His shock was apparent in his strained facial expression.

"It wasn't a big deal. It was awkward and awful and with my college roommate Leah and her boyfriend just one time." Bella explained, knowing she wasn't getting away without a story, and naturally she had to explain this to Edward.

Yikes.

Edward swallowed, and Bella seemed to fight for his gaze.

"Now, your story." Bella challenged Emmett, and Jasper laughed out loud.

This lightened everyone else's mood but Emmett and Rosalie's, but honestly it might've been a worthy sacrifice.

I noticed Bella and Edward were talking in low voices.

Rosalie's face turned bright scarlet, and she looked away.

"Nothing really noteworthy to say about them…" Emmett shrugged, trying to dismiss apparently.

" _Them_? There's been multiple?" Rosalie frowned.

I shot Jasper a look.

"Okay, my turn. Gotta think of a good one!" He drummed his fingers on the table.

"Never have I ever… had sex with someone ten years older than me." Jasper settled.

"Oh, come on…" Rosalie narrowed her eyes, taking a drink, and knowing she'd been intentionally targeted.

We all laughed.

Emmett took a drink, no shock there.

Edward surprisingly took a drink too though, his gaze staying down.

"My college Theory of Probability professor." Edward mumbled.

"You must've done it for the grade. There's no way on earth a _Theory of Probability_ professor was hot enough…" Emmett teased.

Rosalie hit him in the arm lightly, and he tackled her in an embrace, kissing her lightheartedly.

"I did make an A." Edward laughed.

The energy of the room lifted a little, and I noticed Edward put his arm around Bella now.

I guess they were even.

I exhaled.

Rosalie's turn…

She was going to be a wild card. Usually, she never said anything overtly personal because _she_ hated to get overtly personal, but tonight… There was no telling.

I waited in anticipation as she pursed her lips to think.

"Never have I ever… faked an orgasm." She smirked.

"ROSALIE!" Bella and I both shrieked in unison.

"What?!" She played innocent, and I saw Emmett's smug dimples.

"Not even once?!" I pushed, with a raised eyebrow. "You are bound to honesty by the ancient standard of the Never Have I Ever gods."

She still shook her head side to side with a girlish grin.

"For the love of God…" I begged her.

She wasn't budging.

Bella and I both took a drink.

"Not you, obviously." Bella explained to Edward before I could steal that line.

"Yeah, obviously." I put my drink down to see Jasper's waiting eyes.

Rosalie giggled as Emmett said something in her ear.

I wanted to smack her. In good humor of course…

"Okay, let's tally first round points." Emmett was still intensely distracted and googly-eyed over Rosalie as Rosalie settled back into his lap and she traced her fingers down his arm.

"My turn again…" Emmett narrowed his eyes, trying to see what would get the most of us out and settled with the classic hit he always made. "Never was I ever born in America! Ha!"

We all sighed, taking our drinks.

"Emmett, I'm going to end up losing!" Rosalie whined, obviously drunk again now by the way her eyes fluttered.

"It's the luck of the draw, sorry, baby. Here." He grabbed her a glass of water off the table. "Whew, Jasper, these drinks are actually pretty strong."

"What can I say?" Jasper wagged his eyebrows.

I was glad even Emmett noticed that because I wasn't about to say anything.

Rosalie ducked her head into his shoulder. She wasn't going to last much longer.

"My turn." Edward said. "Never have I ever… been tied to a bed."

Everyone's jaws dropped at Edward's never have I ever statement out of left field.

"What?!" He looked away from our crazy eyes. "It's just strategy. You people are freaks. I just knew…"

I had to admit he was smart because as he'd intended I took a drink, Jasper took a drink, Emmett took a drink, and… even Rosalie took a drink.

None of us said a word until Bella busted out laughing at us.

"Just you wait. You two get married, and you'll try some _crazy_ stuff." Jasper said what all of us were thinking, but still I nudged him in the arm.

Bella's face flushed wildly at this, and Edward looked like he was going to be sick. Marriage was obviously a touchy subject. Would they get married? I mean, there was no law saying they had to or anything… But, with a baby, maybe they might? Maybe this was something they should talk about soon…

Babies really did sneak up on you, and with it comes a whooooole lot of life…

I wondered how she was transitioning already. I thought about maybe this was something I should… maybe talk to her about?

I clenched my jaw. I knew I had a tendency to insert myself where I didn't belong just because I was trying to be helpful.

People have called me overbearing and nosy before…

And, with what personal information I'd just released about Emmett and Rosalie thinking that I knew best on how to help them, I'd been thinking a lot about this part of my personality.

I just try to help, but… Sometimes it can hurt.

Emmett and Rosalie had still not even mentioned what I'd done, and honestly it terrified me. It terrified me that there could be something brewing in their minds I had no idea about.

I was concerned and worried that I'd lost Rosalie's trust forever. Or did she understand why I had to do this?

I fidgeted, and Jasper noticed I was distressed.

"What's up?" He asked under his breath.

"Oh, nothing…" I mumbled, but he knew that wasn't true.

I looked over at Rosalie, trying to read her face, but it was proving impossible.

"Okay, okay, on behalf of Rosalie's sobriety, she's drinking water now." Emmett offered as this last drink seemed to do Rosalie in.

"But, that's cheating! This is a drinking game!" Rosalie protested, her focus a little fuzzy as she swayed.

"Is everyone okay with Rosalie cheating?" Emmett asked the group and we all nodded.

"You're going to have to wake up to see your mom in the morning, and you cannot be hung over." He told her. "Remember?"

There was an edge to his voice and a tinge of something in his eyes.

She nodded, swallowing nervously as Emmett left to go get her some water. He was met halfway by a housekeeper that had overheard and handed him a bottle.

None of us really knew what to say, so I just redirected.

"Your turn, Bella." I suggested.

She understood my intention.

"Never have I ever… owned a cat." Bella said randomly.

No one took a drink but Emmett.

"In Cuba there was a cat I fed _one_ time when I was like six, and it hung out around our house ever since. It was ugly as sin and indestructible too. It got hit by probably 10 cars. I'd bet my life it's still alive over there." He said with a little laugh.

We'd never heard him talk about Cuba.

 _Who was this?!_

Jasper and I exchanged a look.

"We should get a cat!" Rosalie suggested with a grin.

"No. We shouldn't." Emmett laughed.

"Oh, come on. We should." Rosalie snuggled up to him. "Tell him, Alice."

He wasn't backing down.

I laughed out loud.

"I'm not getting in the middle of that." I held my hands up. "So, my turn again…"

"Never have I ever…" I thought for a second. "Never have I ever made a sex tape."

Everyone's eyes darted around to see who would take a drink.

Then, in perfect sync, Emmett and Rosalie brought their glasses to their mouths, exchanging a private laugh.

I squealed.

"No!"

Rosalie and Emmett looked at each other and shrugged.

"I'm going to be sick." Edward pushed away from the table.

Jasper was cackling.

"What? I didn't think it was that big of a deal." Rosalie bit her lip. "It was… tasteful."

"Rosalie, if it's _tasteful_ , you didn't make a sex tape." Bella snickered.

It was amusing watching her interact with Rosalie now, especially picking at her as confidently as she was.

"Okay… It's _not_ tasteful." Rosalie winked, and Emmett cleared his throat.

I was laughing so hard my sides hurt.

Rosalie frowned, and I think she was messing around.

"Don't tell a soul. I don't want any hackers in my iCloud." Rosalie made everyone swear.

Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Alice is publishing it in VOGUE as we speak." Emmett said sharply, his eyes finding mine.

I couldn't read him.

"Emmett…" Rosalie scolded immediately under her breath, and the room got quiet.

Emmett was not backing down from the eye contact he held with me so strongly, and finally I blinked away.

"Alice, we need to talk." Emmett said, trying for my gaze again.

"No, you don't. She was just doing her job, Emmett." Jasper said, defending me.

Emmett's eyes went wide and Jasper realized what she'd just said.

"Doing _my_ job would have VOGUE paying punitive damages in a privacy law case instead of _your_ salary." Emmett responded quickly.

"Emmett!" Rosalie shrieked. "We discussed this."

Her tone was sharp and icy, but the only person able to weather her storminess was him.

"We need to talk." I swallowed nervously, looking directly in Emmett's eyes.

I knew it was true, and I knew I needed to air things out with him and Rosalie.

He stood from the floor, and Rosalie watched him with huge eyes.

"Emmett…" She requested again, crinkling her brow as she reached for his hand.

He didn't acknowledge her.

I stood, feeling extra small standing under Emmett's intimidating brawn as he looked down on me from what felt like a hundred feet above me.

My knees were knocking nervously as I followed him into the other room, and he closed the door behind him.

"Emmett, I can explain…" I started, but he interrupted me.

"I'm not upset with you anymore, Alice." Emmett mumbled finally, breaking the absolute horror of silence and anticipation.

"Anymore?" I breathed.

"Rosalie talked me out of being angry at you." He admitted, rustling through the room, seeming to be looking for something in a drawer. "I thought… I guess I thought if I could control all the information… It would be easier to…"

"I know. And, I'm sorry." I gulped.

"I understand why you did what you did though." Emmett said softly.

"Emmett, I…"

"I just had to get you alone. Jasper's the worst at keeping secrets."

"Wh-why?" I asked him.

"I need to know if I can trust you again." He said, his brown eyes on fire.

"You can." I said intensely. "Emmett, I would never do anything to…"

"Well, I need you to do something for me." He requested.

"Anything!" I said too quickly.

"Rosalie and I were in a rush to get married." He admitted. "For a lot of reasons… Some valid ones and some really _stupid_ ones, but really… It wasn't fair to her, and she was too young and in love with me to really care."

I didn't know what to say, and I didn't know where he was going with this.

"Alice, what do you think?" He asked, his dimples showing childishly as he produced a sock with a box hidden in it.

He handed me the box and when I opened it, I almost screamed.

"Emmett!" I hissed. "Holy cow."

It was a diamond band that shone so bright it hurt my eyes. It was _beautiful_. And, it went with Rosalie's Harry Winston perfectly.

"Before all this… She had mentioned having another wedding…" Emmett grinned widely. "She was joking, but…"

"What?!" I couldn't hide my surprise.

"Shhh…" He said. "She can't know. I'm gonna ask her again, _tomorrow_."

"Oh my God." I handed him the ring back.

"She'll want you to be her maid of honor or something. So let's make up, and get back in there, deal?" He extended his hand.

"Deal." I took his hand, my fingers being dwarfed by his.

"Come here, you little freak." He laughed, pulling me in to a bear hug I'd missed more than I knew until I closed my eyes against his chest.


	43. NFWMB

I had every intention to update for Marlene's birthday on Sunday, but I just have been swamped these past few days and Emmett and Rosalie kept having more and more to say in this chapter. Happy Belated Birthday to you Marlene! I hope you had the best day.

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently, I'm writing the scene between Camille and Rosalie. Let me tell you... IT'S AN EXPLOSION._ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about too. I'm writing a scene about how Peter and Carmen meet and how that affects Emmett and Maria and their relationship. I'm also exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

* * *

NFWMB - Hozier

 _When I first saw you_  
 _The end was soon_  
 _To Bethlehem it slouched  
And then, it must've caught a good look at you_

 _Give your heart and soul to charity_  
 _'Cus the rest of you_  
 _The best of you_  
 _Honey, belongs to me_

 _Ain't it a gentle sound, the rolling in the graves_  
 _Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes_  
 _Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay  
Ain't you my baby, ain't you my babe_

 _Nothing f*s with my baby  
Nothing can get a look in on my baby  
Nothing f*s with my baby  
_

 _Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _The Next Morning_

"Who are you, and what have you done with my wife? It's so _early_ …" Emmett grumbled, burying his head in the pillow as I crawled closer to him, perching over his shoulder as he turned away.

"But, Em, it's such a beautiful day." I grinned, partly overdoing my glee.

"Go away." He was far from a morning person before coffee, but it was like magic after that first drink of coffee, and he flipped on like a light switch.

I didn't know how to make coffee as he liked, but I at least thought about doing it this morning…

"No." I giggled, tucking my hair behind my ear before I craned my neck around him to kiss his cheek. "Make me happy."

I teasingly toyed with him, reaching to run my hands through his messy hair. It had gotten so long, and it curled around his ears and down to the nape of his neck.

I loved it, and I twisted my fingers through a curl.

Emmett jokingly shrugged away from me so now his back was fully to me, and he tried to pull the covers over his shoulder.

"It's not your birthday anymore…" He tried to hide it, but I saw the teasing dimples on his face.

"But… But, you can still make me happy." I said in a sickly sweet tone as I tossed the sheets down and climbed to my knees so I could lean over his back.

I was obsessed with the feeling of his skin on mine and the warmth of him made me shiver.

"It's Saturday. I'm off on Saturdays." He protested, turning his head.

"But, Mr. McCarty I put in a request for overtime from you almost five years ago now. Will you not honor it?" I saw his dimples deepen and his resolve weaken, so a smile of my own spread across my face.

"I've given you plenty of overtime." He smirked, but kept his eyes away from me.

"Are you unsatisfied with your compensation, then? I'm sure we can work something out." I bit my lip as I reached my hand over his hip.

At this, he turned swiftly, swiping his hand to grab me by the waist, tossing me like I was weightless to the center of the bed.

I gasped in pleasant shock as I now looked up into his sparkling brown eyes.

"Will you hear what I require?" He asked in a deep, throaty voice that made my legs tingle.

I swallowed, nodding as he ducked his head to press his lips to my neck.

His fingers traced down my neck, and he twisted to press his palm into my skin, making me tilt my chin up and exhale.

Emmett lifted my chin with a steady hand, kissing up my neck and stopping at my jaw. I closed my eyes.

I was impatient, and I ached for him.

Everything about him made me want him, the way his hands felt on me, the way he looked at me, the heat of his skin, everything.

I didn't think. I just did it.

"Tell me what you want." I said this in Spanish.

He took a sharp inhale. This pleased him. I didn't need to see it in his eyes.

I could feel it.

Then, he took my chin in his hand so I was looking into his eyes.

"You. Let me have you." He said in the tone of voice that he reserved just for me.

He said this with the strength of a command, but his hands were tender on my body.

Emmett started to kiss me, and I was immediately restless.

Kissing him was like losing my mind. I felt desire rippling over me as his weight shifted back and he parted my legs with his hands.

"Tell me what you _want._ " I repeated, his waistband proving no obstacle for my fingers.

He kissed me, hot, and fierce, and demanding. Emmett knew exactly what he wanted and his confidence and ability to articulate it while we moved me around the bedroom made my heart race and slow down all at once.

Emmett traced his fingers over the curve of my lower lip, his eyes dancing over my mouth.

There wasn't anything in this world I wanted more than to please him.

I sat up under him, and he sat back on his knees, then hooked his hands under my thighs. My head was spinning as he repositioned me and pulled on the fabric that separated my body from his gaze.

He knew where he wanted me, and how he wanted me. Something about his urgency and the roughness of how he handled me was so new, and it made a fire ignite within me.

Emmett's hands knew my body, and controlled it with expert claim, but he touched me like he was discovering me for the very first time.

My skin tingled with a thrill, and I chanted the name that I assigned to pleasure.

I squirmed against his touch, my body screaming at his contact.

He was authoritative and direct.

He could've told me to jump out of the window and I would've done it.

A half hour later, we collapsed exhausted but satisfied in our bedroom floor. We laid in a heaping pile together, and partially wondering how we'd ended up in the floor.

And, why was there a broken lamp in the corner?

I didn't possess the willingness to care about anything else but my husband touching me. I watched his fingers trace over my body mindlessly as our breathing slowed to normal, and I wondered about the patterns he made on my skin and what his brown eyes saw.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked him.

"You." He answered simply.

I pursed my lips. It wasn't that I didn't like his answer. It was just that I wanted him to be more specific.

He read my mind.

"About you dancing last night…" Emmett had a glimmer of naughtiness in his eye again.

I was already weak at the knees.

"You haven't danced in a long time." He noted, kissing my shoulder.

Chills raised on my skin at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his lips on my skin.

"I love watching you dance, but I like dancing with you even more." He told me.

I thought about how it felt to have him close to me, music playing, rhythm pulsing in our veins, his eyes on mine, our faces inches apart, him leading me where he wanted me to go, and pushing my hips in his imagined patterns.

His fingers traced down my neck and the center of my chest.

I was breathless at his touch.

"What about you? What's on your mind?" He asked, kissing my neck.

"Do you think there's a baby in there?" I asked quietly as his fingers found my stomach.

He didn't say anything, but I watched his jaw clench and his eyes harden as he pulled away.

I knew I'd ruined the moment when he got up from the floor.

"I'm going to shower." He told me, changing the subject entirely as he kissed my forehead.

I took his hands in mine, climbing up to my knees in front of him.

"Emmett." I said intently, begging him on my knees, knowing I'd said something I shouldn't have.

He looked back at me, his eyes shining like they always did after sex, but there was something fresh in his eyes.

"Join me." He directed, helping me to my feet.

"Round two already?" I asked with a giggle.

It hadn't even been 15 minutes.

He but didn't say no as he swung me into his arms.

Instinctually, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He was ready for me again.

After some time we were breathing heavily again, and now we were in the floor of the shower. The water beat down on my back, and ran in streams down his broad, muscular shoulders as he held me in his lap.

I had my legs wrapped around his waist and we were fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces, this time he was just looking at me and I at him, reveling in what magic it was to be this in love.

"You make me crazy." I mumbled, my limbs feeling heavy as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed his hair.

He tilted his chin up to grin and dart his eyes over my face before kissing me on the lips.

It made me giddy to think we were going to be like this forever. He was mine, and I was his.

From the beginning of time, the universe had aligned just so that _we_ could fall in love.

"Rosalie, I don't want anything in this world as much as I want you." He said intently as he took my face in his hands. "Do you hear me?"

I nodded, seeing that he assumed I would understand he meant he was trying to convince me he didn't need me to give him a baby for him to be happy.

I didn't like this though, and I swallowed.

For some reason I lied.

"Me either." I fibbed, but he was none the wiser.

He kissed me, pleased with what I said. It made a lump rise in my throat.

Emmett stroked my hair, kissing me again and denying my eyes because he seemed to know he didn't want to check to see if I was lying.

I was glad.

"I want you to have what you want." Emmett said, pulling away to look at me. "Always."

His gaze jumped from iris to iris and I wondered what he saw in my eyes.

"I know." I nodded.

"I want to give it to you." He said, his voice full of emotion.

He knew that there was something else I longed for other than him.

"I love you." I said, blurting the words thoughtlessly.

He smiled that smile I loved so much, and I kissed him, knotting my fingers in his hair.

"You've got to get ready, Rose." He said against my lips.

"I want to stay here with you." I told him.

"You can't." He said. "Your mom's expecting you."

I crawled out of his lap.

"If she shows up." I snorted as I wrapped a towel around my body, tucking it under my arm.

"She'll show." Emmett assured me in an empty, unsure tone as he slipped on some pants.

"There's a part of me that hopes she won't." I mumbled.

"I know." Emmett nodded.

"I don't think I want to see her." I swallowed, the words hurting my throat.

Emmett looked at me with eyes full of questions.

"I know, Rose. I know." He breathed, opening his arms back up for me to nestle in.

"I've never felt this way." I mumbled.

"I know." He repeated, his voice strained.

"I don't know what to say to her." I whispered.

"Come here." He told me, and I sat down in front of the mirror while he brushed my hair, running a comb through it.

I watched him in the mirror, and I knew he was watching me when he thought I wasn't looking. Emmett was easy, brushing through my hair in such an intimate gesture. I remembered him doing it a lot after what happened to Colette just to take care of me.

In this moment, I think he was still trying to take care of me.

Now I looked at myself in the mirror, letting the towel drop from in front of my perfect body. I was beautiful, and my body was everything the man I desired could want my body to be.

My body was perfect; I just wished it could do the one thing that is supposed to be most natural to me…

I swallowed, trying to escape my thoughts. Now, instead of the comb, he used his fingers in my hair and I closed my eyes.

"If I could say anything to my father, I wish I could tell him that all I ever wanted was for him to choose _me_." Emmett said after a while.

I opened my eyes to look at his face.

Emmett darted his eyes away from mine as they opened, and he just focused on my hair again.

I didn't say a word. I just waited.

"I mean… I just wanted him to care enough about me to ask for the help he needed. He _had_ to know he needed help…" Emmett mumbled.

I still just watched him with wide, open eyes as he brushed through my hair.

"But, he didn't ever ask for that help." He swallowed. "He didn't care that it upset Maria and I when my mom would be knocked senseless, or when he would threaten us with suicide. He didn't care to choose me or Maria, but I think about how easily he could've. It would've changed everything."

I searched his face, but he wasn't showing any of his cards. I didn't know what he was really thinking.

"If I could say anything, that's what I'd say." Emmett told me, finding my eyes now. "I think that's all you want too. You just want your mom to choose you."

I saw vulnerability in his eyes, and mind-shattering _honesty_.

It took me aback. He trusted me.

I trusted him too.

"You know my mom set that shoot up." I swallowed, and I knew he didn't know what I meant, but he wasn't going to interrupt me to ask.

"She… she came to New York and said she wanted to grab lunch and had something to tell me. She took my measurements, so we didn't end up going to lunch because she said I didn't need the calories, because she got me the biggest photoshoot that I'd ever had, with a really _cutting edge_ photographer, and that I'd better do a good job for him because if he liked me… my world could change…"

"It did." I went on.

I took a deep breath.

"What do you mean, baby?" He asked in a mumble.

"My mom came to New York to see me for the first time since I was eight years old. I was fifteen and I'd had to trek across the world to try and catch her for five minutes before then…" I said, but didn't answer his question.

"She came to New York just to tell me to make sure I impress… impress Royce King, so I…"

Emmett's jaw clenched. It wasn't fair to talk about this in front of him. I knew it upset him.

And, I also knew Emmett was restless about him getting out of jail in March…

There was already a restraining order in place, but what good was a piece of paper going to really do? It terrified me. But, naturally, Emmett and I never talked about it.

Emmett's hands in my hair centered me, but I felt the tension in his fingers. I saw it in his face in the mirror, even though he wasn't looking at me.

"And… When I did impress him, it was like… It was like impressing her." I swallowed, never able to talk about this before this moment.

"She would call me after I shot with him, and she _never_ called me before…" I started.

"I kept getting booked for jobs he was on, and I stupidly thought it was because… because I was doing a good job…"

"It would be natural to think that." Emmett said in a strained tone. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But, after what he did, I stopped showing up when my agency would tell me he called… And, my mom stopped taking _my_ calls."

"She didn't come to the trial, and I told myself it was because she felt too guilty…" I mumbled.

Emmett's fingers braided my hair tightly into a long braid down the center of my back, and then just as he'd finished it, he started to undo it.

I knew it was because he wanted to keep his hands busy. I knew it wasn't good to talk to him about that, but I needed to. He knew I needed to.

"I know it isn't fair… But, I connect her to that, and I… I just want to impress her for another reason so I don't have to think about that being the only time she was ever happy with me."

Emmett looked at me now, his brown eyes full of emotion.

"Rosalie…" He breathed, because he didn't know anything else to say.

I didn't know what to say either.

Emmett knelt by the stool where I sat so I was more even with his eyes as he touched my face.

"She's blind, Rosalie." He said sincerely. "Because everything you do, everything you've accomplished, everything you are… is unbelievably impressive."

His fingers left a trail of fire on my skin.

I just nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. This still didn't permit me to speak though.

"You are an extraordinary woman, and I hate that your mother doesn't see that." Emmett said with tragedy in his tone.

"But really, it's her loss." He said with intensity.

"You think?" I mumbled because I knew nothing else to say.

"I _know._ " Emmett said with intensity in his striking brown eyes.

"I want to tell her that I'm angry." I said through slightly gritted teeth. "But I know it won't change anything."

"Yes, it will." Emmett protested. "It will change something. You'll feel better because you were honest, and you did all you could. You just need closure and to let her know how you feel."

"I don't _know_ how I feel." I said.

"You do." Emmett said, looking away from me. "You're just afraid that that's what you feel."

I remained silent.

"You'll know what to say, Rose. You'll know _exactly_ what to say." Emmett tried to convince me. "Call your dad and tell him to come save you at a certain time or something."

"Okay… What about you?" I asked.

"I have some errands to run today." Emmett said vaguely.

"Like what?" I frowned.

He shrugged.

"Go get ready, please." Emmett huffed. "It's just some clients for work I'm going to meet."

"It's not like she's going to be sitting there waiting on me. She'll be late." I pouted. "And, it's Saturday. Who's meeting with you on a Saturday?"

"I was out, so I have some catching up to do." Emmett justified, raising an eyebrow.

"Emmett, please…" I begged. "It's important."

"Rose, I know, and I'm sorry…" He touched my face. "What do you say to dinner tonight? We'll go to il Buco. I'll get us a private room. Then we can take a walk if it's nice out."

I bit my lip, unable to hide my smile.

"What?" He asked, a smile on his own face now as his eyes darted over mine.

"Nothing." I grinned. "It's just… Oh, nothing."

"What is it?" His smile intensified, and his eyes sparkled.

I got lost in them.

"That's where you asked me to marry you."


	44. You Should See Me In A Crown

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently,_ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about too. I'm writing a scene about how Peter and Carmen meet and how that affects Emmett and Maria and their relationship. I'm also exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past and some more things I don't want to spoil yet heheheh. Big things are brewing!_

REVIEW BECAUSE THIS CHAPTER'S A BIG ONE

* * *

You Should See Me In A Crown - Billie Eilish

 _Bite my tongue, bide my time_

 _Wearing a warning sign_

 _Wait 'til the world is mine_

 _Visions I vandalize_

 _Cold in my kingdom size_

 _Fell for these ocean eyes_

 _*Count my cards, watch them fall_

 _Blood on a marble wall_

 _I like the way they all_

 _Scream_

 _Tell me which one is worse_

 _Living or dying first_

 _Sleeping inside a hearse_

 _I don't dream_

 _You say_

 _Come over baby_

 _I think you're pretty_

 _I'm okay_

 _I'm not your baby_

 _If you think I'm pretty_

 _You should see me in a crown_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _Later in the Morning_

 _"Rosalie!"_

 _"Rosalie! Over here, princess!"_

 _"This way! We have questions!"_

 _"Where have you been?"_

 _"Give us a pose, Rose!"_

 _"Tell us about your party last night!"_

 _"How about a smile, baby?!"_

 _"Don't leave us in the dark, angel!"_

I ran my hands over my ultra-long slick ponytail with a satisfied smirk. I'd won back my kingdom just by stepping outside my apartment in a badass outfit and smiling for a few camera flashes.

I dressed as I'd hoped to feel - _confident_.

But there was no black leather jacket or high heeled boots or tightly curled hair that could make me confident enough to be waiting on my mother to show up.

I sat alone in the back of The Regency where I'd gotten us a private table after I'd called my mom to set this meeting up. I confirmed probably a thousand times, but our meeting time came and she still didn't show.

Fifteen minutes passed, then twenty, then twenty five…

I scrolled through my phone, trying to send some emails and make some calls while I waited, but I really couldn't focus on anything but the fact that she still hadn't shown up.

Why was she like this?

Couldn't she just show up for me like everyone else's mom?

There was a part of me that was relieved I wouldn't have to see her. I was still wrestling with how I wanted this to go. Would I nod and smile, treading water, and playing tug of war to try and get her to stay or just look at me for five seconds? Would I tell her how I really felt?

How did I really feel?

Just as I told the waitress I wasn't going to need the table anymore, I saw her round the corner.

I didn't anticipate it to hurt as much as it did to see the roundness of her stomach and the rose color in her cheeks. It was like getting splashed by a wave of ice water and branded by hot irons on every inch of my skin all at once.

It took my breath, and I had to remind myself to blink and breathe. The subsequent exhale was like exhaling fire and my throat burned with the intensity of my stifled pain.

"Ma chérie." She kissed me on both cheeks.

I smiled, shivering under her fingers on the tops of my arms as she pulled away to look at me.

"Have you been drinking? Your skin looks dry and you need to take care of those dark circles." She tapped my cheek under my eyes quickly, wrinkling her nose.

I shrugged away with a little smile and she dropped her hands from me.

"We had a party for my birthday." I tried to explain as my heart began to race.

"Just like a child, how adorable." She said, and something about her tone was condescending.

She sat down across from me, immediately pulling out her cell phone, her fingers flying over the screen as they pounded the keys.

I swallowed, hating that I was hoping for her to just look up at me.

She picked up the phone.

"Pardon." She murmured before holding up a finger to her lips to signal I should be quiet while she was on the phone.

I swallowed while the waitress filled up both our glasses with sparkling water.

"No, I told you Tuesday isn't soon enough, Marlene. I need the samples by Monday. _Monday_ , does that make sense to you?" She barked into the phone.

I kept my eyes down as if I was reading the menu until she hung up.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop." I began. "What samples?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"You really have been living under a rock for these past few weeks haven't you?" My mom snorted as she took a sip of her water.

I shrugged.

"I guess they make you hand in your phones at that fancy rehab…"

"It wasn't _rehab_. It was a counselor. After what Emmett and I went through, we…" I corrected swiftly.

"Whatever. Same thing." She waved her hands, dismissing and cutting me off. "It'd probably be better if that's what you told people, honestly. Every celebrity child goes to rehab at least once. Have you talked to your publicist about it? Might be a good idea."

I clenched my jaw and shook my head.

"Well, why not? You have to release some sort of statement to get back in the press." She said sharply.

"I don't have a publicist anymore. Emmett fired her." I explained. "And VOGUE already printed the true story."

"Right." She sniffed. "Well, VOGUE also just announced that I'm releasing a home goods line. Those are the samples I've been waiting for."

"It's launching right before the holidays." She explained. "So I've been - ugh, I've been stressed up to here."

She held up her skinny hand even with her piercing blue eyes.

Her bangle bracelets clanged together. I nodded.

"And you pulling out of fashion week was enough to send me into an early grave, Rosalie." She said, scolding me. "I'm too young to get worry lines."

She tapped her temples, trying to keep her face blank and wrinkle-free.

"I'm sorry, Mom. Really." I swallowed, staying away from her gaze. "It was just…"

"And when I'm already under so much stress. There you go throwing this on me too." She groaned like I was being selfish and tactless.

I took a deep breath.

"What made you decide to do a home goods line?" I questioned, hoping this would help her forget I dropped fashion week.

"I knew I'd be good at it, I suppose." She said confidently. "And people always listen to the French when it comes to a luxurious home."

She immediately forgot about fashion week.

"Your father isn't the only creative one, you know?" There was a smile on her face that made my heart jump.

"I know." I smiled.

She was beautiful, and when she smiled like that, I imagined that all these years could be erased. We could make new memories to replace the old ones, or the lack of memories…

All the missed holidays, missed family time, missed weddings…

"Do you have anything to show yet?" I asked, desperate to connect to her.

"Oh, just a few pictures I've taken on my phone. Nothing professional yet." She said, starting to scroll through her camera roll.

"Now, this fountain bowl will be in copper. It's probably one of my favorite pieces in the collection." She said, leaning toward me to show me a photo she'd taken.

"Mom, that's really beautiful." I breathed.

She stroked my cheek, then let her fingers dance around a curl near my ear.

"Merci, baby." She said swiftly, kissing my cheek. "I'll send you one."

"I'd like that." I mumbled, my throat tight as I tried to connect to her.

"But it's not like you even use your kitchen." She teased.

"Right." I giggled tightly.

"You should come back to Paris." She pushed her hair back, patting it down perfectly in place with her palm.

"Maybe some time soon, but I think Emmett and I need to stay in New York for a while. This year's been hard on us."

She didn't even listen or register what I'd said.

"Well, you would just love what I've done with the house in the 8th. I had to redecorate recently because we've had photographers in and out for the past few weeks for magazines, and websites, and whatever else." She waved her hand. "It's like it never ends."

"Diane and I had thousands of pictures taken at home for the baby announcement though." She started. "You haven't congratulated me yet, by the way."

It stung to hear her say that and I caught myself frowning.

"Congratulations." I repeated in a ghostly tone.

She smiled a different smile, but I let my eyes fall down, looking everywhere but her.

"My team and I think that a baby and a family definitely makes my brand more relatable and it couldn't be better timing for the launch over the holidays."

"You understand that, right?" My mom said, her eyes trying to find mine.

"I understand." I nodded, my voice sounding more confident than I thought it would.

I was trembling on the inside as I kept my eyes down.

Making her _brand_ more relatable?! _That_ was why she wanted to have a baby right now? When _I_ was struggling? When she made it obvious how much she didn't want _me_?

I tried to focus on anything but the pain that was radiating from my very core.

"You've always been my biggest supporter." My mom said, tapping the end of my nose so I'd look at her now.

"I'm your daughter, not a fan girl." I frowned, finding her eyes.

The words tasted sour on my mouth and I immediately felt anxiousness wash over me while I waited for her response.

Her face changed into an expression I couldn't read, then she iced over all over again.

"You _are_ my daughter - which is why you should be happy for me." She challenged.

I didn't say anything. I had no idea _what_ to say.

"I can't be happy for you right now." I murmured at last. "I can't. I want to, but I'm not happy… I'm _angry_. You're having a baby."

Her eyes began to burn and she clenched her jaw. I was looking into a mirror of my own anger.

"Diane and I." Was all she said to correct me.

"Why right now?" I asked.

"Stop mumbling; I can't understand you." She grumbled.

"Why _now_?" I repeated through my teeth. "Why all of a sudden are you doing this? Why you ready to be someone else's mother? Why are you… Why are you letting someone else have you like I never did?"

"Rosalie, are you taking new medication? You're sounding irrational." She said in an even, low tone.

"No. I'm not on any medication." I said strongly. "I'm rightfully angry."

"Rightfully? That's a strong claim. Well, I don't know what you want me to do about it." She said with wide, detached eyes.

"Mom… Please, try to listen." I closed my eyes. "I'm really upset that you did this to me, and I want to talk to you about this. Please…"

We stared into each others eyes for a long moment before I noticed darkness creep into hers right before she spoke.

"If you expect me to apologize to you, I'm not going to." She retorted, seeming defensive.

I felt steam begin to come out of my own ears as I just stared at her, challenging her with my equally as intense gaze.

"That's what you came here to get isn't it? You're so predictable, Rosalie - begging me to clear my schedule for you like this." She rolled her eyes.

"You're spoiled and selfish, and I blame your father." She snapped venomously. "You think you can just have everything in the world that you want and if you can't then no one else can have it."

Her anger seemed to brew more heavily the more silent I became.

I pressed my lips together, threatened by what words were begging to be released behind the gate of them.

Finally, I said it…

"Why would you _do_ this to me? You _know_ what a baby means to me. You know how…" I choked on my words, then cleared my throat to try again. "You know how _hard_ I've…"

"Rosalie, let's get something straight." She said, sitting up straight and tall to make me shrink down from her in intimidation. "I didn't do _anything to you_. I didn't do anything _to you_ because I didn't even _think_ about you when I did it. Diane and I wanted this baby, and we went and got it. She is my wife, and this is my family. _Period_."

" _I_ am your family. You didn't _think_ about how this would affect me?" I gritted my teeth, trying not to show the agonizing pain on my face.

"No, Rosalie, I didn't." She tossed her hands up. "Because contrary to what you believe, the entire world does not revolve around you! I wanted this baby. Where is your compassion?"

" _I_ lack compassion?! You _left_ me in a world I couldn't navigate. It was your job to love me, and take care of me, but you _abandoned_ me! And now, you expect me to have _compassion_ for you?"

She stood up and I grabbed onto her arm with a vice grip.

"You are _not_ leaving." I gritted my teeth.

Her eyes met mine and I thought I saw something in her irises that backed down from me.

"You have no idea what you've taken from me." I roared. "You took away my _mother._ My children's _grandmother_."

My bottom lip trembled.

"Your children's grandmother?" She snorted. "Please. You're not having children. You're barren."

My mouth hung open.

"How could you say that?!" I gasped

" _I'm_ your child. I'm your _child_." I said, my throat tight at the pain. I hunched over and held my stomach to avoid my center from ripping apart.

Her eyes danced over mine as she sat back down in front of me. Something made her stop fighting me.

"You _left_ your _child_." I gasped.

Her lips were in a straight line, far from the beautiful smile that was not even a ghost on her face.

"I'm your child, and you disappeared. You didn't take my calls. You never stood up for me. I had to always wonder where you were." I went on, the words I'd never said pouring from my mouth like a busted faucet.

"You're _not_ a child anymore so you can't keep acting like one. Move on, Rosalie." She responded coldly.

"I can't move on! You were supposed to be my mother! You were supposed to be the person to hold me when I was afraid of the dark, and to call me when I was hurt and lonely. To pick me up off of the floor when I scraped my knee. You were supposed to be my _mother._ My best friend. You were supposed to fight for me and _choose_ me. All I wanted was for you to choose me! Just once…"

I felt tears start to rush down my cheeks.

"For God's sake stop with the tears, Rosalie." She sighed exasperatedly, denying the tenderness. "This is why I can't have a rational conversation with you. You're so _emotional_ , just like your father."

"I just needed… I just wanted you to _be_ there." I tried so hard to steady myself, but I couldn't. "It wasn't about what you did. I just…"

"Oh my God." She huffed. "I don't have time for this."

"You _never_ have time for me!" I shrieked, then tried to calm down. "I've waited for you. I've waited for so… _so_ long. Mom, please. I've waited for you… But you never…"

My bottom lip trembled, and she just looked at me.

"Did you not have everything you wanted growing up?" She challenged. "Did you not get every pretty dress that caught your eye? Did you not get to go on elaborate vacations? Did you not-?"

"All I wanted was _you_! I didn't care about any of that!" I shrieked.

She scoffed.

"I would've given up every bit of it, everything, for just… for you to just be there. But you weren't! You never were! I needed you and you…"

"Are you telling me I failed you?" She challenged. "Hmm?"

The air was sucked from the room.

I found her eyes and they had an emotion in them I didn't understand given the circumstance. She looked… insecure.

That's when I realized, maybe she was more messed up than I was.

"N-no, I just…"

"Because I was _eighteen_ years old, Rosalie, at the peak of my career!" She snapped. "I wasn't _ready_ for a child."

"That's no excuse." I swallowed, feeling guilty for scolding her like I was.

"Isn't it?" She protested. "I didn't grow up with all the luxury you did. I didn't know who I was or what I wanted… I couldn't take care of you! I gave you your _best_ chance by leaving you to your father."

I wiped my eyes, fighting more tears as they came.

"But, your father's always made me into the bad guy, I bet." She snorted. "Sure he has… You were better off with that robot, Stepford Wife Elizabeth as your mother anyway."

She sneered Elizabeth's name with utter disdain.

"But you don't understand anything, Rosalie." She rolled her eyes. "And, it's about time you do."

I sniveled, wiping my eyes.

"I was just 14 years old when I ran away from my junkie mother and all of her skeezy boyfriends. I left Paris and made it to New York because I was tall and skinny and odd looking and I heard they liked that in America… But, I didn't have anywhere to stay. I was just sleeping on subway cars trying to fend for myself. I bet your father never told you that."

I clenched my jaw. No, he hadn't…

But then again, she hadn't either. I'd read something like that online, but my mother had never told me about her past… She'd never talked to me about anything.

"I could barely speak _any_ English, so the first fashion house I walked into was your grandfather's… I didn't understand it was just menswear." She swallowed.

"But, Robby was in the office that day shadowing his father…" She called him a nickname I didn't imagine she'd ever had for him.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.

"He thought I was beautiful, but he also could see I was hungry and tired and scared…" She began, and something in her tone was soft and tender. "Your father's always been just so _eager_ to take _care_ of something, and back then, I thought I _needed_ to be taken care of…" She went on.

I immediately thought about the shoot that made her famous. Her blonde hair was slicked back and wet and she didn't have on any makeup. She was a waif of a little girl in Robert Hale menswear…

That shoot skyrocketed my dad's company and of course my mom's modeling career.

"Your father spoke enough French to make me feel safe… Why don't you ask your _husband_ what that's like? I know he's gone to bed with plenty of people to make him think he's understood." She wouldn't be vulnerable with me without poking back at my own vulnerabilities.

"Mom…." I breathed, but she could read my insecurities on my face.

"You know, your Emmett and I are more alike than you realize. I know you think you love him because you see your father in him. Always wanting to take care of you…"

"Mom, we aren't talking about this…" I mumbled, feeling uneasy for some reason.

"But, late at night when you pretend you're asleep, I know you hear him tossing and turning. He has nightmares and he talks in his sleep. You try to understand. I'll bet you try as hard as you can, but it's something you'll never understand and never be able to fix, Rosalie. You'll try and you'll try and you'll try, but let me tell you, he's _never_ going to feel at rest with you. This isn't home for him. Nowhere is… He's got a big hole in him, right here." She put her hand on her own chest.

I gulped.

"We both do. And nothing can fill it. Not a hundred thousand lovers, not all the success in the world, not every drop of alcohol in existence, not a cute little wife or a baby…" She traced her finger over my cheek.

"Don't talk about him." I said, my throat burning painfully.

I grimaced.

"You think he's going to leave you just like I did. But, you're right… he _is_ like your father, so he won't leave you." She assured me in a dark tone. "He won't."

"But, because he's like me… He'll never be satisfied. And, you'll _never_ be enough." She said this matter-of-factly, her eyes stabbing into mine.

"No." I shook my head. "You're wrong."

A sinking feeling in my stomach was weighing me down.

"Then, why are you so nervous?" She challenged.

"You don't know anything about us, Mom." I said more confidently. "You're just trying to get a rise out of me and distract me from what I really want to settle with you."

"You have such a calculated and evil idea of me, Rosalie." She clicked her tongue, making a face. "It's quite sad."

"Mom, I…"

"What are you hoping to get out of this, Rosalie? Really?" She leaned forward in provocation. "You want me to bake cookies with you? You want me to braid your hair and share stories and play board games?"

"No, I just want…"

"You want an Elizabeth." She raised an eyebrow. "She's right there, Rosalie, and she wants all those things with you that you want with me."

"It's not the same! She's not my mom!" I screamed, closing my eyes tight and clenching my fists.

Then, I felt a quick smack on my cheek to get me to stop.

"Rosalie!" My mother grabbed my chin harshly, forcing me to look right into her eyes.

"Listen. Elizabeth is your mother. She loves you and she loves your father, and you even have a brother in that Edward fellow." She told me evenly. " _That_ is your family."

"But you…"

"No, listen. I _love_ Diane, Rosalie. I want a life with her and a family with her… I want this baby with her to start over and… God, every time I look at you, I just…"

She dropped my face out of her grip.

"You just what?" I asked, my bones feeling cold as I shivered.

"I worry that I'm really doomed… Like I told you we were…" She said, and there was real emotion in her voice. "I wanted to not believe it was true, and that I won't ruin this kid like I ruined you, but… every time I look at you…"

I tried to get control of my ragged breathing, but I just couldn't.

"Mom, it's not too late for us. I thought it was, but it's not." I swallowed, getting down on my knees in front of her.

My voice shook and I willed it to stabilize.

"Mom, please. Try. Please." I begged.

"I'm leaving for my flight in two hours." She said evenly, looking away from me.

"Cancel your flight." I exhaled.

"I don't want to." She said, her voice absolute as she found my eyes. "Not for you. Like I said, Diane and this baby are my family. Please, Rosalie, let me go so I can start over."

There was not a shred of remorse in her eyes. Instead, it was _desperation_.

" _Please_." She repeated.

Then, she looked up and behind me because someone had just come in while I was distracted.

I whipped my head around when I heard my name in a voice I didn't recognize.

Two police officers stood at the doorway with stoic expressions.

I stood from the floor and in front of the woman who'd just said my name.

"I'm Rosalie Hale." I squeaked, unable to explain the heaviness I felt.

"Ms. Hale, your house staff told us we could find you here." She said in a raspy tone.

The darkness that washed over me in that moment in time, I would never forget.

"What's going on?" I asked, then immediately, the sinking feeling returned and I dreaded her answer.

"There's been an accident."


	45. Love Like This

I'M SORRY I HAD TO!

This is one of the first chapters I wrote of the entire story, so it's been a long time coming!

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently,_ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about too. I'm writing a scene about how Peter and Carmen meet and how that affects Emmett and Maria and their relationship. I'm also exploring a scene from Bangladesh of Emmett and Rosalie's relationship foundation and the first thing she really learns about his past. I'm also looking at a scene for Elizabeth and Rosalie that I think is going to be very important.  
_

* * *

 **Love Like This - Kodaline**

 _Running through the heat heart beat_  
 _You shine like silver in the sunlight_  
 _You light up my whole heart_  
 _It feels like in the sun, the sun_  
 _We're running around and around_  
 _Like nothing else could matter in our life_  
 _But wait, but wait, but wait_  
 _The sun will stop shining soon_  
 _And you'll be gone from my life_  
 _Yeah, you'll be gone, it's as simple as a change of heart_  
 _But I'm not gonna think about the future_

 _A love like this won't last forever_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _The Hospital_

My head was swimming and all the white noise of the hospital hallway seemed increasingly loud.

I put my hands on the sides of my head, my knees feeling weak.

"Ms. Hale, I'm Doctor Foster. I…" A doctor put his hand on my shoulder, redirecting my focus.

"Don't touch me." I shook off his hand, my own arms going limp by my side.

He clenched his squared jaw and shot the doctors next to him a glance.

My eyes couldn't focus, and they seemed to take in everything at once.

This wasn't happening. This was a bad dream.

I found myself irrationally focused on the bright pink of a woman's scarf as she sat in the waiting room on the telephone. It was so bright against the stale white.

"Ms. Hale… As you were told by the police, your husband was involved in a car accident this afternoon." The doctor started and the room started to spin.

I noticed there were two other doctors standing next to me with clipboards and white coats as they waited for me to calm down.

But, what made my heart race was the presence of the chaplain…

The chaplain was here to make sure Emmett was right with God before…

He couldn't.

I prayed I would die myself before he could. I wouldn't spend a second on this earth without him. I couldn't…

I swore I wouldn't.

I wondered if the windows opened… It was exceptionally cold for the beginning of November.

It'd be a perfectly long fall.

"Where is he?" I asked wildly, but my voice didn't sound like my own.

They didn't understand.

I noticed I was being held back by a pair of arms I recognized as my mother's, as my heels dug into the tile and I tried to push forward to find him.

"Rosalie, calm down and listen to the doctors, okay?" She said in a coddling tone I never knew she could possess.

"I have to get to him!" I finally screamed aloud, but my own voice sounded miles away. "He needs me. Everything will be all right. Everything will…"

"Rosalie!" My mother said sharply, shaking my shoulders.

I had to get to him. They didn't understand. I had to get to him.

It would all be better. I had to get to him.

"We just have to discuss some things… some very _difficult_ things about your husband's medical care." The doctor said in an even tone, the kind of even tone that scared me and shook me to my core.

"What did you do wrong?!" I lunged forward, only to be yanked backward again.

I couldn't focus.

The world was moving in slow motion.

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

Every cell that grew in my body was on fire.

"Ms. Hale, I have arguably the best neurosurgeons in the state." He said defensively.

"That isn't good enough." I growled. "Call whoever you have to in. I can pay."

"I'm sure you can, but you won't have to. I promise, your husband is in great, very capable hands." The doctor said sourly, but tried to remain compassionate.

He didn't understand. This was a part of my soul. I was missing a part of my soul.

My core was aching, and every second throbbed like blood behind a bruise.

I couldn't breathe.

"He's in surgery and they're working diligently. It should only be a couple more hours now, but… we really need to talk about some things for you to be prepared for."

I couldn't swallow the lump in my throat when I caught a terrifying distinction. _Neuro_ surgery.

"What's wrong with him?" I gained the courage to ask, then immediately wanted to take it back.

Everything was muffled and far away and my head was pounding…

"He… He hit his head pretty hard, and with the glass from the window… Ms. Hale, your husband's a very lucky man that the impact alone didn't kill him."

"Don't!" I gasped, crushing my hands to the side of my head at the word, just the word…

I couldn't bear it. I couldn't bear to hear it. I couldn't bear to think of it.

"He's going to be okay. He's going to be okay!" I raved.

"Shhh, Rosalie… Rosalie listen." My mom grabbed me and I ducked my head into her chest as she stroked the back of my hair in a shockingly maternal gesture.

I felt like I was just going to slip right out of her arms and slide down to a puddle on the floor.

I couldn't stand.

"He's not… He can't be… He…" I stuttered, hyperventilating over my words.

"Ms. Hale, your husband is doing very well in surgery. He's a fighter, and he's not letting go. He's pretty banged up, but we're confident he'll survive."

Somehow, this didn't comfort me as he'd intended, and I felt my chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to explain to me the extent of his injuries, but I could barely hear him.

My ears were ringing.

It was burning up. I was so hot I could scream.

"But, with a traumatic brain injury like this, you need to be prepared for some… _impairment_." The doctor said.

"Like _what_?!" I shrieked.

"A brain injury is unpredictable and we won't know the extent of the trauma until he wakes up, and at this point we don't even know when that will be, but we'll need to be prepared for anything - memory loss, aphasia, relearning to walk and talk…"

The words after that all ran together and I felt like I was under water and everyone was trying to talk to me from the surface.

I didn't know how to be strong. I couldn't.

I clawed at my jacket, ripping it off my shoulders throwing it to the floor.

"I can't breathe." I started to panic, and I pulled at the neck of my shirt as I tried to calm the rapidness of my inhale and exhale.

It was no use.

He was my lungs. He was my oxygen. There was no breathing without him.

"I can't breathe!" I cried, ripping the chain of my necklace and stretching the neck of my shirt as far as I could allow.

I wanted to rip out of my skin.

I probably could've.

"Rosalie, you have to do this for him. You have to pull it together." My mom said strongly, grabbing my wrists and fighting to keep my hands from ripping at my throat.

My eyes started to fade to black.

"Rosalie…" I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see Alice and my heart could've burst at the strength in her eyes.

Nothing could make this okay, but she was here and she wasn't going to let me drown.

I exhaled, a sigh of short-lived and shallow relief as she wound her arms around my shoulders.

I wished this safe feeling could last.

"This isn't real." I shut my eyes tight and I felt a lump in my throat.

I didn't know why she was here, but she was.

"I'm here for you." She said, power in her voice. "Jasper is too…"

My eyes danced to Jasper standing by, his eyes down on the floor. My stomach dropped, knowing the seriousness of the situation by the look in Jasper's eyes.

Jasper'd been crying.

My tears couldn't come.

I was in shock.

"I've already called your dad and if you give me your phone, I'll call Emmett's family…" Alice encouraged, her voice even.

I fumbled, my hands not agile enough to grab my phone so I handed her my whole purse.

"It's okay." She said softly, her eyes careful and trusting as I trembled and began to trip over my breathing patterns.

I felt my heart start to race and my throat constricted so I could barely breathe.

She hugged me, but it wasn't intrusive or suffocating. It was supportive.

"I can't." I swallowed, staring blankly over her shoulder as she tried to soothe me by petting my hair.

"Rosalie, we're here for you. Whatever you need." Alice comforted, going through my phone to find Emmett's parents.

Carmen… Peter… Maria….

They would be inconsolable… I couldn't be strong enough for myself, let alone for them.

"Alice, I can't do this." My hands shook as I held them up near my chest.

"You can do _anything_." Alice said with a little encouraging smile that had no trace of humor or happiness in it. "You're Rosalie Hale."

"I can't, Alice. I really can't."

"You're going to have to." She said strongly.

"He needs you now, Rosalie." Alice said with intensity in her emerald eyes.

The minutes passed in awful, agonizing spurts and I paced a thousand miles, awaiting any news.

I remained stoic as my father, Carmen, Peter, and Maria rushed in, tossing their arms around me and crying plenty of tears of their own.

I watched Maria put her head on Peter's shoulder, curling up in the waiting room chair next to him as she cried inconsolably. Carmen paced in the corner, a rosary around her wrist.

My fingers blankly traced over my wrist where mine would be… I couldn't even think to pray.

I tried, but all I could say to Him was _help_.

My mom missed her flight.

She sat next to my father for the first time in so long it seemed foreign enough to shock me out of the limbo world parallel to this one I felt I was existing in.

That wasn't comforting to me though- it was _alarming_. Nothing was enough for them to put aside their hatred for one another before… Nothing.

It was obvious that I hadn't registered the depth of tragedy yet, but it was big enough for my combative parents to lay their weapons down…

Alice and Jasper watched me, though they were pretending they weren't as they stood next to the vending machine talking in hushed voices.

I walked in circles, stopping every so often to cross my arms over my chest and stare at the door where a surgeon was supposed to come out with any news.

It felt like days, but it was four hours and forty seven minutes.

It wasn't supposed to take this long.

They'd said only a couple hours…

Something was wrong. I felt so out of the loop and in the dark.

There was something they still weren't telling me, though I'd asked the doctor to repeat the same painstaking words to me over and over and over until I was numb to them.

He was never going to be the same.

"Ms. Hale?" I heard my name from the surgeon at the door as I was pulled back to the grim reality at hand.

"How is he?!" Carmen gasped.

The woman looked around at the gathering we'd made, all of us on edge and hanging desperately on her words.

"Surgery went well. He's recovering, but all we can do is wait. We have him under observation, and we'll keep you updated on how things go."

"I want to see him." I said, standing tall, but not as tall as the doctor as she looked down on me from a few inches.

I was ravenous and craving just the sheer knowledge of his existence. I wanted to see him and touch him to remind myself he was real.

"Of course." She said. "Follow me."

"Rosalie, you're going to be fine." My mom stood, assuring me.

I furrowed my brow, trying to process the change in her eyes.

I couldn't focus on it long enough to think clearly about how I felt about it.

My father stood with her, but they couldn't follow.

Carmen could though, and she reached for my hand wordlessly.

I looked down as her fingers laced through mine for the very first time. Her skin was the same olive as Emmett's and it made my stomach feel empty.

My gaze went back up to find her eyes, but she wasn't looking at me. She kept her round jaw clenched tightly, and her strong, deep eyes focused straight ahead.

I saw strength in her that I wished to siphon.

I could use it.

Something about Carmen's grip on my hand though made it seem that it was the opposite for her - she was siphoning _my_ strength, or at least the appearance of it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I made the longest trek of my life down this hallway that seemed to stretch out like a funhouse mirror.

The doctor pushed open a door, pausing in the threshold and giving me a supportive glance.

I rounded the corner, desperate to find him, to see him and know everything was going to be okay.

This would all just be a bad dream. I'd see him and it would all fade to a terrible memory.

I could barely see him through all the wires and tubes and machines, but I could see him. That was him, and this was real.

It wasn't a bad dream.

The world around me went black and the last thing I remember, I was falling.

* * *

 **Edward**

 _2 days later_

"She hasn't moved since he got out of surgery." One of the nurses was telling the other.

"They just let her stay in there like that?" The other crouched over the nurse's station, trying to whisper but not doing a good job of it.

The first nurse, a round, plump woman of middle age craned her neck to look into the room where I assumed Rosalie and Emmett would be.

"I mean… no one's going to make her get up." She said. "The poor thing…"

"Oh, I know." The other woman responded. "I heard the doctors saying at lunch when they actually tell the truth that they don't know why he isn't waking up… Something's wrong."

Gossip was familiar on their lips, and I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the worst as I approached the threshold.

I tapped my knuckles on the open door lightly.

"Rosalie?" I called softly.

I saw her blonde hair spilling over the rail of the hospital bed as she curled up next to Emmett, her head on his chest.

I entered the room tentatively, afraid she was asleep, but something in me knew she wasn't.

The room was bright with autumn sunlight pouring in the tall windows, all the curtains drawn and every windowsill decorated with plants and flowers.

But, the scene was far from idyllic.

It was hellish.

Cacophonous beeping sounds and whirring machinery filled the air with oppressive dissonance.

Emmett looked out of place and tragically _wrong_ lying connected to all these machines. There was an obvious and gaping hole in the air where his energy and life was supposed to be.

He naturally filled every room he was in. Yes, he was a big guy physically, but he was larger than life in spirit.

That was what was missing, and the room was a cavernous abyss of where he was supposed to be.

There was something wrong.

And more wrong than just the obvious.

He wasn't here.

I thought about what the nurses had said, then decided I couldn't think about it any more.

"Rosalie, I brought macaroons." I suggested, holding up the bag in my hand as I rounded the corner so I caught a glimpse of her lifeless eyes open and staring straight ahead.

I shivered at the sight.

"I'm not hungry." She said in a haunted tone, not budging.

"Okay." I said.

"Can I still sit in here with you, though?" I asked, coming toward an armchair in the corner.

"Yes." She said softly.

I didn't know what to say, and my heart started to race in panic. I wished I could fix things.

I couldn't look at them.

"Why isn't he waking up, Edward?" Rosalie finally asked in a desperate, heartbreaking tone. "It was supposed to be a few hours… Just a few hours… It's been decades."

She asked me like I was supposed to know, and supposed to fix everything. She had so much faith in me.

It was like she was a child again, asking her new older know-it-all stepbrother about all the deepest questions of the universe. Most of the time he could pretend he knew an answer and come up with something to satisfy her curiosity.

Today though, I couldn't think of a single word…

"Rosalie, why don't you eat something and go home take a shower? I'll be here with him." I finally suggested.

"No! I'm not leaving him." Rosalie said, but now she at least sat up to look at me. "I'm staying."

"Rosalie…" I exhaled. "He'd want you to take care of yourself…"

"You have _no idea_ what he wants." She half-growled, her eyes fierce on mine.

There were dark purple circles under her violet eyes and she looked pale and sickly.

"You're right." I said plainly. "I'm sorry."

The words were easy to say because it was true.

I was so, so sorry.

She sat up now though and looked away from my eyes and back to his face.

There were bumps and bruises that she avoided as she stroked his cheek and talked to him, low enough only he could hear her.

It made my stomach hurt to watch her.

His raven black hair was interrupted by a white winding bandage around his head and down the back of his neck.

Robert had told me it was bad - it was really bad, but I hadn't been prepared for it to be _this_ bad.

"Knock, knock." There was a man at the door with brown hair, grey eyes, and an authoritative presence.

He smiled a tight smile.

Rosalie didn't even look up.

Robert told me the doctors were optimistic at first, then slowly started to get more and more realistic with their news, but they still didn't know what to tell Rosalie…

They'd told Robert privately that _if_ Emmett woke up, he most likely wouldn't know his own name let alone be able to recognize Rosalie or remember how to walk and talk. They told Robert they could get a psych consult for Rosalie and some people to talk to her and help her prepare, but Robert denied.

He hadn't even told her…

I didn't know what the right thing to do was. Rosalie had hope in her eyes - no matter how tired and desperate they were - there was still a sliver of hope, and who could be the one to crush it?

No one wanted to be that person.

Could she survive it?

"You're in a much more polite posture for company." The doctor remarked that she was sitting up now.

Rosalie wasn't amused, and I saw the anger bubbling in her eyes as she looked over to him, though she was too exhausted to express it.

I noticed one of the male nurses _obviously_ checking Rosalie out, and I thought maybe _this_ would wake Emmett up if anything would.

He'd not allow that in front of him.

I cleared my throat.

"I'm Edward Masen." I introduced myself, extending my hand. "Rosalie's brother."

Rosalie's eyes danced over me and I thought I saw a little smile as I shook the doctor's hand.

"Pleasure." The doctor said, as nurses and other doctors buzzed around the room checking machines and writing things down on clipboards.

I noticed that they'd brought a chaplain because Rosalie's eyes darted to him and her face lost the little color it had left. She knew that wasn't a good sign.

I knew too… They were going to give her some bad news.

I swallowed, making my way to stand next to Rosalie as the doctor changed to use slow, condescending language to try and ease in to whatever he was going to tell her.

The suspense was agonizing.

"She's perfectly capable of understanding you, you know?" I narrowed my eyes, feeling a protective instinct over Rosalie.

Rosalie smiled smugly, but without humor.

"Rosalie…" The doctor used her first name familiarly. "We understand that it's all happening very quickly, but you have some difficult decisions to make regarding your husband's medical care moving forward… We're here to help."

Rosalie clenched her jaw, knowing by the way the information was being presented that it was far from good news.

"There has been no improvement or sign of meaningful brain activity to date. There are life sustaining measures in place that…"

"No. No. _No,_ you're not having this talk with me! I'm not letting you." Rosalie gasped, her breath taken by what they were suggesting.

It all came as a shock to me too, hitting me like a train. I hadn't been ready for this bad of news…

Who could be?

I reached out for Rosalie, but she shook me off.

"We have some papers for you to look at when you're ready. We can have someone come talk to you? Help you through it?" The doctor suggested.

The chaplain and everyone else in the room had their eyes down.

For some odd reason, the natural reaction I had was sheer anger.

Why did this happen? How?

"Help me decide to _kill_ my husband?!" Rosalie choked on the words but tears still didn't come to her violent violet eyes.

"Ms. Hale…" The doctor exhaled, trying to reason with her as I assumed he'd reasoned with thousands of people before her.

But, those people weren't Rosalie and they weren't this in love with Emmett.

She redirected her focus.

"Emmett…" Rosalie whispered, calling him and only him, panic rising in her voice.

"Emmett, you can hear me…" She called again, her hand shaking as she touched his face. "I know it."

Her eyes were glassy and desperate.

"Em?…" She cried. " _Please_ … I need you. Wake up… Please…"

I had to turn my back and clench my eyes shut. My breath caught in my throat and I gritted my teeth together to try to keep from breaking down, when Rosalie needed me to be strong.

"Emmett…" Rosalie went on like this for a while.

"Ms. Hale, we're concerned that there's been no improvement… We don't know if he'll ever regain consciousness, and if in the very slim chance that he does open his eyes, he'll never…" The doctor pressed.

I blinked away the fog that rose in my eyes.

"Stop." Rosalie whispered, closing her eyes, and holding her shaking hands over her face.

"We'll give you all the time you need, we just want you to consider…" The doctor pressed on.

"She said _no_!" I finally snapped.

"Edward, I can't." She sobbed, and her eyes went crazed and wild as she crouched protectively by Emmett's side again.

"Rosalie…" I tried to say through my tight, airless throat.

Rosalie wailed, absolutely inconsolable and crying harder than I'd ever seen anyone cry. I didn't imagine she was even able to breathe, and I did all I knew to do.

I scooped her up in my arms, and she let me.

I peeled her off of him, tucking my arm under her knees and behind her back as she eventually turned to sob into my chest.

Then, over her cries, I heard something.

The monitors.

They were different, and they kept changing slowly. Everyone in the room froze to look at him.

"Oh my God." One of the nurses inhaled, absolutely dumbfounded.

The chaplain made the sign of the cross and Rosalie scrambled down from my arms, taking a gasping inhale but daring not to breathe another breath as she stood by him.

She hoped to give all her oxygen to him, every bit he needed to come back from whatever 'other side' he'd been frequenting in his absence.

My heart raced out of my chest.

"Don't crowd him." The main doctor mumbled, though he stepped forward, his brow furrowed in apparent befuddlement.

Emmett's brow furrowed ever so slightly, and he inhaled.

Rosalie exhaled, and I kept my hand on her shoulder to make sure she wouldn't fall.

But, she was steady and strong as she stood by his side.

After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes drowsily opened.

I felt Rosalie trembling, but her expression was like iron.

My breath caught in my chest in anticipation.

After a moment, of trying to focus, confusion filled his brown eyes.

"Emmett, you're all right. You're in the hospital and you're being taken care of. You were in a car accident." The nurse started.

This seemed to register, and his eyes found the nurse who spoke, showing that he could focus and understand. I found this as a success.

"You've hit your head pretty hard, broken a dozen bones, and we've got all patched up, but you're going to be okay." The nurse finished with a little smile.

He swallowed, seeming to find that his throat was sore, before he tried to lift his hand then stopped, his gaze finding the wires and fluids connected to him.

Rosalie was going to pass out with anticipation.

My heart raced.

He dropped his hand and grimaced a colorful curse word in a hoarse, raspy voice. He was slurring his speech as he closed his eyes again, this time registering the pain his body was in.

Rosalie lunged forward protectively.

I laughed a relieved and nervous laugh. He was in there.

"I feel like I got hit by a truck." He said, opening his eyes again slowly, still frowning as he processed and came back in to a body full of pain.

I couldn't help but laugh. He would be fine.

Rosalie shot her gaze back to the nurse.

"Well, you _were_ hit by a truck." The doctor chuckled.

"My head…" He blinked slowly a couple of times before he furrowed his brow to concentrate.

"I'll _bet_ your head hurts. We'll get your something for that."

Then, a light seemed to turn on in Emmett's eyes.

His gaze found Rosalie like he'd known all along he'd been searching for her.

Had he? Did he know?

Time stopped.

I held my breath.

Then, dimples appeared on his cheeks slowly and drowsily, but they were there.

"Hey Rose." He said, and I watched her smile the biggest and most glorious smile I'd ever seen.

"Hey." She exhaled happily, tears starting to pool in her eyes.

Relief washed over us in waves.

He looked over her now with open, receptive eyes as she sat down on the bed to take his hand.

"You kept me waiting." She said as she kissed his lips.

He smiled, tired, but he was there.

"I'm sorry I stood you up at dinner." He said, full of humor.

"Don't do it again." Rosalie said, deep seriousness in her voice as tears started to race down her cheek.

"Hey, don't cry." He begged, tragedy in his exhausted eyes as he groggily and uncoordinatedly lifted his hand to her face.

"You scared me, Emmett." Rosalie said, leaning into his touch and closing her eyes as she held his hand up to her cheek.

Then, as if she couldn't stand not to anymore, she kissed him again.

"I had the _wildest_ dream…" He started, his eyes darting over her face and sparkling as he looked at her in a way only he could. "It was so real…"

"You'll have to tell me all about it." Rosalie sighed, relief still evident in her face.

"You're going to think I'm crazy, but I think you…"

Then, like a vacuum had been turned on, his expression changed to one of absolute emptiness, like he'd forgotten what he was saying and all the words had been sucked out of him.

"Em?" Rosalie panicked, and slowly dropped his hand.

"Something's wrong." The doctor said as he lunged forward, moving quickly as the monitor started beeping rapidly and Emmett's eyes rolled back in his head.

I picked up Rosalie by the waist and pulled her back as he started seizing.

I couldn't help but close my eyes, but I knew Rosalie didn't.

She saw it all.


	46. 22 (Over Soon)

I'M SO SORRRRRRYYYY! This is important to the grand story arc though, and will really be important in the completion of Emmett's character study. It's heartbreaking, but there's hope! Don't want to ruin anything... but there's hope.

Here's the Bangladesh chapter. I hope to post the next chapter by Mondayish!

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently,_ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about too. I'm writing a scene about how Peter and Carmen meet and how that affects Emmett and Maria and their relationship. I'm also looking at a scene for Elizabeth and Rosalie that I think is going to be very important.  
_

* * *

 **22 (Over Soon) - Bon Iver**

 _It might be over soon, soon, soon_  
 _Where you gonna look for confirmation?_  
 _And if it's ever gonna happen_  
 _So as I'm standing at the station_  
 _It might be over soon_

 _All these years_

 _There I find you marked in constellation_  
 _There isn't ceiling in our garden_  
 _And then I draw an ear on you_  
 _So I can speak into the silence_

 _It might be over soon_

* * *

 **Emmett**

 _5 years ago; Bangladesh_

The screaming was relentless, and I knew I'd hear it in my nightmares from here to eternity. There were millions of words crossing and tangling in the air maddeningly in a language I didn't understand.

My heart raced in my chest as I pulled my arms from over a group of young children and straightened my protective crouch over them from where I'd ducked against the collapsing bamboo and crashing structures around us.

I couldn't see a foot in front of me, and all I heard were screams in a foreign tongue. I felt despairing hands grasping rapidly at me, pulling me in a thousand different directions.

They knew one English word that I'd understand, 'help!'

This must be what hell feels like.

My eyes searched through the madness and blinding darkness to find Rosalie on the other side of the dirt floor.

I exhaled with relief, my entire body yearning to go to her. Rosalie was on the floor with a woman screaming and pawing at her to help her; the woman pointed shaking hands outside. Rosalie's purple eyes were wide and her focus shot outside into the rain where the woman manically gestured.

I heard a high-pitched squealing and the Burmese word for Mama echoed through the terror-filled night air.

"There's a child out there!" Rosalie shrieked, taking off running into the monsoon.

With all the screaming, desperation, and terror filled voices rising around us, my heart raced as I followed her.

"Rosalie!" I called after her, following her into the raging storm.

My boots stuck in the mud and knee deep water splashed wildly around me. It was irrational and stupid to believe that the rickety shelter provided this sort of immunity from being killed or maimed, but somehow it was harder to believe we could get killed inside.

Now, we were vulnerable to an angry and bitter earth that rejected us and bullets... wild bullets...

Rosalie tripped in the jungle greenery out of the water, falling to all fours with a grunting cry of pain before scrambling back up to her feet amongst the wreckage that was the falling refugee camp and thousands of rioting and fighting people.

I tried to pretend I was unafraid, but I wasn't.

I was _very_ afraid.

Rain poured and soaked through my clothes so that I was already wet to the bone before I caught up to where Rosalie fell to her knees next to a woman and a small little boy, no more than two years old.

A group of men and women pulled at Rosalie's arms and clothes and hair to try and get her to help with their own problems that were no doubt just as dire, but she focused on the little boy.

"Rosalie Hale!" I called in as booming a voice as I could, worried for her as she shrugged her arms out of her soaked jacket so a desperate old man could put it on himself.

Rosalie examined the woman the best she could, and I pushed through to get to her.

Rosalie's eyes met mine and I saw her hands covered in blood and trembling in front of her.

"Emmett?…" She panted, fear in her eyes at the sight of so much blood.

I felt for the woman's pulse, not feeling anything but cold stillness…

I swallowed and looked back up into Rosalie's anticipatory eyes.

Tragically, I shook my head.

Rosalie took a sharp inhale, her wet blonde hair sticking to her skin before she picked up the little boy, cradling him to her chest.

"It's going to be all right." She cooed to him, kissing him and holding him close as she stood to her feet with him.

I sat back from his mother's dead body, watching Rosalie turn, rocking him in her arms as she set on her path back toward our shelter.

Her own face was resolute and courageous.

She was the bravest woman I'd ever seen.

I watched her, my hands trembling as I stood to follow her back.

Rosalie dodged fallen structures, leaning tin, broken bamboo, and heaps of sick and dying bodies as she continued her path.

"Rosalie, that was so stupid. You can't just…" I began, storming up behind her.

"I couldn't leave him!" She gasped, her eyes wide and red as she held the boy to her chest, cradling the back of his head with his mother's fresh blood staining her marble skin.

I didn't say anything. I just watched her, as she placed a kiss on his forehead, closing her eyes and vibrating with fear and the chill of realizing you live in a broken world for the very first time.

My heart and stomach sank for her as I watched this blissful part of her innocence disintegrate from in front of her gaze.

"I know, Rosalie. I know." I said in a ghostly tone, noticing the bright red blood on her hands seeming to glow in the night.

A blood-curdling scream caught our attention not too far from where we were and a little girl pulled on Rosalie's arms toward the noise, the earth seeming to rattle threateningly.

The little girl was in tears and the desperation on her face was so dire and so intense that Rosalie and I both sensed our divine duty to tend to it.

I couldn't understand what she was asking, and Rosalie obviously didn't either but she just nodded, following the little girl blindly. I wasn't going to let her go alone so I followed too.

The boy cried in her arms and she cradled him tighter.

The screaming we followed sounded like a woman. It was labored and random, and as we got closer, the little girl pulled us to duck into a small tin shelter.

It did very little to shelter from the rain, and it still splashed on our skin inside. I couldn't stand up straight and the shelter was barely wide enough for the inhabitants.

A young girl no more than 12 was sprawled in the dirt floor, her knees pronated and her feet digging into the mud and rising water as a few young boys and girls held her up from behind. She squeezed into their hands and they seemed to be yelling encouragements to her as she grimaced and wailed.

It didn't take long to connect what was happening.

"Oh my God." Rosalie's eyes went wide.

My hands shook, and my stomach dropped.

"I…" I couldn't think straight. "She's…"

"Have you delivered a baby before?" Rosalie asked me, determination in her eyes.

"No." My voice cracked.

"I haven't either." She gasped. "What do we do?"

"I… I don't know." I swallowed. "We need to go get help."

Most of these people needed medical attention but there was only one ambulance that could fit only five people in it that made a trip twice a day to a hospital in the city center.

Everyone we were here with had their own emergencies to deal with. We were the only two aids on this side of camp.

The young girl shrieked, reaching her shaking hand toward Rosalie, and writhing so her skirt hiked up around her waist, blood pooling between her legs in the muddy water.

I felt sick.

"We don't have that kind of time." Rosalie said with a pale white face and a somber tone, noticing that the baby was already almost here. "You're delivering this baby."

The young girl screamed, ducking into the arms of an even younger girl that held onto her. There was so much blood.

I noticed everyone in here was a child.

"I don't know what to do, Rosalie!" I told her fervently.

"Well, neither do I!" She said, panic in her eyes.

"I can't, Rosalie. I really can't." I froze, not having the time to think about how much I hated that she saw fear in me.

I ran stressed hands through my hair, shaking and feeling just as much as helpless as every desperate, hungry, sick child in this room.

One of the little girls reached for the boy in Rosalie's arms in anticipation.

"No, I…" Her voice cracked, and she could barely be heard over the screaming and shouting.

She didn't want to let him go, but she knew she had to.

I couldn't do this… I couldn't.

It had to be her.

"But, Emmett, my hands are dirty, I…" Rosalie had tears streaming down her face as she realized she had to do this, and her bottom lip was trembling as she reached for me, showing me her bloody, dirty palms and how violently her hands were shaking.

I couldn't think of any words, and even if I could've I wouldn't have been able to say them.

Rosalie was sobbing, but as she knelt down in front of the young girl, she maintained a brave face.

She wasn't crushed under the pressure. She was transformed by it.

In an instinctual and primal way, she'd know what to do in a way I could never know.

My feet were rooted to the spot I stood, and I was unable to move an inch. My eyes took in everything at once and I thought I was on overload.

"It's okay." Rosalie said to the girl, crouching between her knees, and even though the girl couldn't understand her, Rosalie was a great comfort and she started to cry a relieved string of cries. "Breathe. Your baby's almost here. You've just got to push."

The wide eyes of the young kids that held up the girl were full of fear, but the way they looked at Rosalie took me aback. They didn't understand how, but Rosalie was helping, and they were in awe of her.

I was in awe of her too.

Rosalie looked up at me with desperation, needing reassurance and I took a deep breath. This gave me the push I needed to move and do whatever I could to help her.

"Tell me what to do." I said, even though I was terrified and unsure and overwhelmed.

"Hold her." Rosalie instructed.

I just nodded, and the young kids surrounding her began to disperse so I could provide a more strong support for her as she leaned back into me. Another long scream coming from the center of her being as she readjusted to grasp onto my arms and hands frantically.

"That's it. Breathe." Rosalie encouraged, finding the girl's eyes, and stroking her face tenderly in a familiar, relational gesture. "Emmett, do you know _anything_ about babies?"

"No." I shook my head, trying to go through anything I'd ever heard in passing. "Just… I know the head's supposed to come out first. See if you can…"

I couldn't say anymore. I might pass out.

"Brush her hair. Keep her comfortable." Rosalie told me, and made a face as she reached down between the girl's skirt.

I swallowed, lifting my shaking hand to brush along the girl's hairline. The girl closed her eyes, exhaling into my contact and screaming at Rosalie's.

"I'm sorry." Rosalie mumbled to the girl, pushing her own hair back determinedly with her wrist.

The look on her face astounded me. She was beautiful in such a new and shocking way.

I wanted to reach out for her, but I had to focus.

This continued on into the night, and the girl dug her fingernails into my skin again and again, so I gripped every muscle in my body to brace myself for her. I tried not to shake with the fear and uncertainty that pulsed in jolts through my veins. I picked her up out of the mud, trying to make her comfortable.

Rosalie twisted her hair on top of her head, her jaw clenched and her brow furrowed resolutely as she reached down under the girl's skirt, ducking her head…

"Oh my God, I…" Rosalie's eyes were wild and her face went white. "I… I see…"

Of course, I'd never been witness to childbirth. It was a mystery and I preferred it that way. I was far from squeamish after all I'd seen in my life, but this was the one thing I was blissfully ignorant to.

It wasn't beautiful, as everyone seemed to suggest. It was the _worst_ thing. It was a nightmare of terror and a display of brute strength unlike anything else. It was visceral and awful. It was violent and ugly.

Why did _anyone_ do this?

Granted, there were medical and technological advances not available to us in this desperate moment, but this was unimaginable…

"It's almost here! Just a little more." Rosalie's focus came back up to the girl, but her hands reached down.

She looked all at once terrified and confident.

I'd never heard screaming like what I heard next, but then the girl's body relaxed and fell limp into my arms as she exhaled a cry tiredly. I looked down at her face for a fleeting moment, seeing something that resembled waking up from a good dream. A tired smile spread across her lips and her glazed eyes blinked slowly.

I'd never seen anything like it in my life… After all that horror….

Rosalie gasped, letting out a laugh produced just by bubbling joy and relief, and my focus shot back up to her.

"It's… It's a boy." Rosalie produced a gorgeously healthy, but tiny baby boy to the young girl in my arms.

I could've passed out right there, but I had a job to do, and there was nothing I wanted to miss about this.

I watched Rosalie with open, receptive eyes - absolutely unable to forget this moment. Her strength was undeniable and radiated out of her skin so that she seemed to glow like a warrior of heaven in this dark hole of hell.

"Hi, baby…" Rosalie grinned a wide, special smile down to the baby, and her voice transformed. "Go meet your mama."

Rosalie was breathing heavily as she transferred the sticky, messy, but beautiful baby into its mother's arms with the utmost care.

I looked down on the baby, hearing the mother's tired voice cooing to it in a language I didn't understand the words of, but the intent and emotion was obvious and blinding.

The baby was so little. It was so… so small in such a big world.

Then, Rosalie's eyes found mine and the planet shifted.

I loved her.

It's hard to say the exact moment you fall in love with someone, but with Rosalie, I knew exactly when it was. I thought I'd loved her before, but now, I was _in love_ with her.

And, I knew exactly why I was in love with her.

No matter how broken, and awful and hellish this world was, she radiated with the glow of heaven, and I was drawn to her light like a moth to a flame.

I longed to be near to her. I longed to bask in her light.

"I just…" Rosalie started triumphantly, unable to acknowledge what she'd just done.

"I love you." I blurted out.

We hadn't told each other we loved each other in months. We awkwardly tried to backpedal after jumping straight into the deep end just a few weeks into our budding relationship. The morning after we'd snuck around and I had dinner with her family, she met me in my office the next day and cried and cried and cried.

She'd told me she wasn't ready for what we'd done. She'd told me she wasn't scared of me, but she was still trying to figure out how to... _enjoy_ physical aspects of a relationship.

I understood, and it killed me I hadn't been more sensitive or aware to her. Before Rosalie, most everything was just physical for me. I hadn't thought twice that physical affection could actually _mean_ something, and to Rosalie, it meant _everything_.

She wasn't ready, and she thought she was. It killed me that I'd hurt her and couldn't understand what she needed, but I didn't know it would be this hard to be with someone as… _innocent_ as Rosalie.

I thought maybe that would be the end, that we would decide our age gap was too much, but more than that - our lives and stories and personalities didn't match and we'd made a bad decision.

I thought it was the end, but it wasn't….

It was hard to backpedal, but we did and now… Now seemed as good a time as any to tell her I loved her again.

"I love you too, Emmett." She sighed, and responded with a little smile, leaning back on her hands, rightfully exhausted.

It had been hours and hours of this and I noticed the sky had begun to turn grey with a new morning.

"But, that still doesn't seem enough to say." I said.

The young girl in my arms was panting, and I gave her support, feeling her trembling tired body against my chest.

Even in its exhaustion, I felt her strength and vitality. It was otherworldly and cosmic and unexplainable as I connected to her as she held her child in her arms.

"It's enough for me." Rosalie responded, pulling her wet hair from where it stuck to her neck. "Just tell me over and over again so I don't forget."

"I will." I nodded in a covenant.

I repositioned the young girl so she was comfortably lying with her creation as it now slept in her arms. The other children gazed on the new baby and new mother with enchantment and awe.

Now, I opened my arms for Rosalie and she sunk into them, collapsing into my chest.

I hated myself for suggesting that she came with me as it put her in so much unforeseeable danger…

But, as she breathed into my neck evenly like she was trying to find sleep, I couldn't help but think about never letting her leave my side again.

I wanted her forever.

As the storm passed and Mother Nature calmed around us, we found ourselves exhausted in the wreckage of a ravaged camp, helping relocate families and desperate people into the few places that could be salvaged from the storm.

We were walking through sheer desolation, but as we got the girl and her baby the help she needed and got the boy to a doctor to be examined and a plan for his care set into place, I couldn't help but think the sun seemed to shine brighter than it had before.

I noticed later in the evening once we took a second to break and finally sleep after all that had transpired, Rosalie stood right on the other side of the makeshift threshold of my 'door' that was really just half a threadbare piece of fabric full of holes.

Her tired eyes watched me as I sat in the dirt, writing and recording all I'd seen before I tried to go to sleep. It was hard to sleep in places like this, when there was so much to do and so many people to help.

She drug her boot through the dirt, drawing a line with her toe as if to mark this threshold and make it obvious that she was on the other side of it.

"You can come in." I said, not looking up from my page as she realized I'd noticed she was there.

"I…" She said, her voice sounding far away and ghostly.

I looked up now, finding her eyes.

My stomach dropped at the sight of them.

I could see in them that she had been jaded. She had been scarred. She would never be the same.

She still wore her bloodstained clothes, her hands still were drenched and red. Her golden hair had blood in it and dirt caked in her ivory skin.

Rosalie took shaky breaths as if she had just started to feel the weight of what had happened. She was only human and she'd attempted the super-human.

Her respiration was panicked and if she wasn't careful she'd hyperventilate.

"Hey, hey come here, talk to me." I mumbled, reaching out for her to join me in the floor. "I know you're overwhelmed. But, these people need and appreciate you so much; you did so good, and…"

I tried to start with what was obvious and easy to say. It was hard to exist like this and mentally process this kind of squalor, and… Rosalie delivered _a baby_ without knowing the first thing about delivering babies.

"They're _dead_ …." Rosalie breathed to interrupt me.

I knew immediately what she meant, and I don't think I'd ever felt such sorrow and grief wash over me as I set down the notebook and stood for her.

"Emmett, I've… I've got their blood on my hands." Her bottom lip trembled and she just held out her dirty palms for me, like a child unable to process what was happening.

"Wash your hands, Rosalie." I said calmly.

"I… I…" She stuttered, starting to malfunction and whimper.

If there was ever a time to step up and be a man, it was right now. She needed me.

I was no stranger to death, but being desensitized to it didn't make it any easier to be surrounded by. This was Rosalie's first experience of it, and it was swallowing her whole.

I reached out for her, taking her wrists.

"Rose. _Wash_. Your. Hands." I said gently, enunciating my words.

She nodded, her eyes glazed and wild as they remained tethered to mine.

My gaze served as a tie to reality and I kept the eye contact fervently before she looked down at how I held onto her wrists.

Rosalie remained frozen in the spot where she stood, not seeming to be able to mentally process or make decisions, no matter how small.

"Okay, come here." I pulled her behind me.

Her legs were like Jell-O as I guided her outside, so I scooped her up and cradled her as we wound through the trees toward the stream.

She swallowed, closing her eyes as I guided her to her knees next to the water.

Rosalie was breathing heavily, panting painfully as I guided her hands to the cold, risen, muddy stream.

Her hands shook violently, even under water and I knew she was afraid.

I had never wanted to go home more in my entire life.

"Do you want my help?" I asked, reaching to put my hand on her shoulder.

Rosalie just nodded, not really processing what I said. She didn't move, so I started unbuttoning her shirt while she stared straight ahead catatonically. I guided her arms out of her shirt that was once light blue but was now tainted with the blood of countless sufferers, including her own.

When I was done with her shirt, I untied her boots and slipped them and her soaked socks off of her blistered feet. She barely winced at the shredded skin and blood.

Once she was just in a once white tank top, she slowly stood to her feet like a baby giraffe, unbuttoning and unzipping her khaki work pants. As the fabric slid over her snowy white skin, I saw the bruises on her mile-long legs and the blood caked on her bony knees and ankles.

I swallowed, hating this awful world, and knowing that she was much too good for it.

"I thought I…" Rosalie stepped out of her pants, furrowing her brow as she looked upon my face.

"You did everything you could." I said, trying not to be distracted by the splendor of her body in just her underwear, even in such a dire and terrible situation.

She was so beautiful, but I hated seeing her this upset.

She nodded, seeming to accept this, but the tragedy in her eyes remained as she lowered herself into the stream, wincing at the cuts and bruises as they met the water.

I sat on the bank and watched her dip her hair into the water, seeing red blood swimming away from her in squiggly, snake-like streams.

Rosalie ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes before holding her breath and submerging herself fully under the water.

I watched her as she came up for air, and I worried about the furrow of her brow as she scrubbed her fingernails across her scalp. I took the flask from my pants pocket to turn it up.

"Here." I told her, offering her a drink too.

She just tilted up her chin so I could meet her own lips with the flask, and I guided it upward. She swallowed once and I pulled away.

Rosalie grimaced, but held out her hand for the flask. I gave it to her.

She could use it.

"Are you okay?" I asked her as she took a few more drinks.

"Why did that happen?" She gasped, wincing at the strength of the alcohol.

"I don't know." I answered honestly, hating that I didn't know some magic words to provide comfort in this situation.

She shivered as she climbed out of the water, and I pulled off my shirt for her.

Rosalie didn't protest as I guided her arms through the holes.

"You did everything you could, Rosalie." I told her again, hoping this time she'd hear me.

She nodded.

"I did." She swallowed, seeming to acknowledge it.

"You did." I hoped this would give her some sort of peace.

But, she would never be the same after this. I was nervous, and the pit in my stomach wasn't just from hunger.

Our flight was tomorrow morning and I had already planned to go see a priest the second I got back, as I did after every time I went on any trip like this. Rosalie did the same, but she didn't really understand the necessity of it like I did.

Now, undoubtedly, she was ready to run into St. Patrick's and never leave.

"It wasn't enough." She murmured, finding my eyes this time.

I was crushed and heartbroken to see the pain in her face.

I never wanted it to be there again.

"Stand in the sun with me." I requested, pulling on her hands so we were out from under the trees and in a spot of warm sunshine.

She closed her eyes in the light, inhaling. The warmth cooked our skin, and I watched her recharge.

"You feel that, Rosalie?" I asked her softly. She nodded.

"That warmth means we're alive. That means another day has come, and that means we have another million chances to do something, to be something, to… to matter."

"We have to keep going. We're still the ones feeling the sun for some reason. We still have some mission here that's keeping us alive. We've gotta keep helping as much as we can, loving as much as we can, and just… We have to keep going on."

"You're right." She agreed with me, then her eyes met mine. "But, it's so hard to keep going sometimes."

"I know, Rosalie… I know." I said running my hands over her wet hair.

We sat down in the dirt together and Rosalie reached for my hand. I laced my fingers through hers and she laid her head on my shoulder.

I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears as I prayed she'd be okay. She was too good for this brokenness.

"There's so much… _dying_." Rosalie said in barely a whisper.

I wound my arm around her, hoping to provide some sort of comfort.

"Are you afraid of dying?" She asked, more vulnerability in her voice than I'd ever heard.

"No. I'm not." I told her honestly, squeezing her tight. "I'm not afraid of dying."

That's when she looked up and her violet eyes met mine.

"Why?" She asked, not a trace of puzzle or curiosity in her eyes, but something else I couldn't identify.

"Because…" I said, believing it wholeheartedly though not really knowing a true answer. "It's not… It's not the worst thing."

"You're right. The worst thing is living." Rosalie said, her eyes blank as they stared ahead now, away from me.

"Rose…" I started, but wasn't sure how I was going to finish it.

"That's the worst thing you can do to someone… _Die_ when they still have to survive. That's the most cruel loneliness."

I stood, dumbfounded by her take on the question and her response.

"I suppose I should've asked if you were afraid of living." Rosalie murmured, and I reached for her. "Of _surviving_."

She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch and grabbing onto my hand so it would stop with my palm at her cheek.

Then, her eyes shot back open and she looked up at me.

"I'm _so_ tired, but I can't close my eyes." She mumbled. "I see it all over and over again."

I nodded.

"It's…" I began.

"I don't want to sleep alone." She interrupted with open, intense eyes.

I swallowed, noting the look in her eyes.

"I can't sleep alone." She clarified.

Then, I nodded.

"I can't either." I hoped I wasn't being too forward and pushing her.

"Can I sleep with you?…" She started, easing my worry.

I didn't dare even breathe, but I nodded almost too quickly before offering her my arm.

"Sure." I tried to answer cooly.

She ducked into my side, curling under me as if I could somehow shield her from all of this.

I had this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that was very different from the hunger. It was… It was… _butterflies_.

We moved the makeshift door to my quarters, and I felt my stomach drop.

Rosalie didn't look nervous, but more exhausted than anything.

She ran her hands over her face, and it struck me just how much I loved her.

"I lied. I am afraid." I told her with more honesty than I'd ever expressed to anyone.

Rosalie looked over at me with wide, open eyes.

"I'm afraid of a lot of things now that I didn't used to be."

I looked over at her, absolutely unable to keep myself from reaching for her. I needed her close.

"What do you mean?" She murmured.

"Before… Before I…" I cleared my throat. "Before you, Rosalie, I wasn't afraid of dying. I wasn't afraid of anything."

She waited.

I couldn't sift through my tangled thoughts fast enough. I took a deep breath.

"But now… Now, I'm… _terrified_." I admitted the truest thing I could think of.

Rosalie took my hands, and began to kneel. I followed her to the threadbare sheets over the dirt.

"Hold me." She said, her voice as smooth as velvet, but as sure as stone.

I didn't want anything else.

She fit perfectly into my arms, and I closed my eyes to inhale her as she curled closer into me. I felt her breathing as she pressed her body into mine, and I couldn't help but notice that this was the first time we'd been like this - lying together.

I wrapped my arms around her, letting Rosalie find any sort of solace in me that she could. She threaded her arms under mine and around my waist. Her hands pressed into my bare back, and her fingers gripped at my skin to pull herself closer to me.

She tilted her chin up, asking for a kiss I more than wanted to give her.

Her lips were soft, but hungry and desperate. She tangled herself up with me, squeezing until her muscles shook.

"I'm… so afraid of how much I love you. I didn't know I had that much in me. I didn't know I could do that…" I admitted to her. "I didn't know I could feel… I… just never want to be apart from you, Rosalie. Ever."

She didn't respond, but she gripped me tighter.

"I want to die with you. I don't want to spend a second on this earth without you, and I… I know it might be selfish, but I never want you to spend a second on this earth without me. I don't want you to love anyone else. I…"

I frowned, not satisfied with the words I'd chosen.

"Hold me tighter." She begged, trembling with the effort of holding me to her.

I didn't know how I could hold her any tighter without totally absorbing her body into mine.

"I will." I swore to her as she buried her face into my chest and wound her leg around my waist.

I was surprised at her forwardness, but it didn't feel… overtly sexualized as she anchored herself to me. It had an innocence to it that I had to focus on as I felt her proximity in a way I had never felt her before.

I kissed her forehead, thinking about how much she trusted me.

"Don't ever let me go." Rosalie begged, her voice a desperate whisper as she pulled herself even closer to me, so I could feel her heartbeat falling into perfect synchronization with mine.

I just nodded, kissing her forehead.

"I _can't_ let you go, Rosalie." I said.


	47. Hard To Find

I'M SO SORRRRRRYYYY! This is important to the grand story arc though, and will really be important in the completion of Emmett's character study. It's heartbreaking, but there's hope! Don't want to ruin anything... but there's hope. Stay tuned.

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently,_ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about too. I'm writing a scene about how Peter and Carmen meet and how that affects Emmett and Maria and their relationship. I'm also looking at a scene for Elizabeth and Rosalie that I think is going to be very important.  
_

* * *

 _ **Hard to Find - The National**_

 _I can see the glowing lights_  
 _I can see them every night_  
 _Really not that far away_  
 _I could be there in a day_

 _I wonder if you live there still_  
 _I kinda think you always will_  
 _If I tried you'd probably be_  
 _Hard to find_

 _What I feel now about you then_  
 _I'm just glad I can explain_  
 _You're beautiful and close and young_  
 _In those ways we were the same_

 _There's a lot I've not forgotten_  
 _I let go of other things_  
 _If I tried they'd probably be_  
 _Hard to find_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _One month later; Thanksgiving_

I gripped my fingers together until my knuckles turned white.

 _"GET OUT!" I screamed._

 _My mother looked at me with blank eyes, but ultimately backed away._

 _"It's not like I_ want _to be spending my time in a damn hospital with you, Rosalie." She snapped. "I'm here because you begged me to cancel my flight and be here for you and…"_

 _"I made a mistake." I growled._

 _"Many." She wrinkled her nose._

 _"I don't want you in my life. I don't want to speak to you ever again. I don't need you. You're free. Isn't that what you wanted?"_

 _"Yes." She said in finality, not an ounce of loss in her eyes._

 _I was too angry to feel any loss over her. I didn't have the time._

 _"You've stayed long enough to prove to all the cameras that you're not a terrible person, now GO!" I said._

 _"I really hope he's okay Rosalie, for_ his _sake." My mom said, narrowing her eyes. "And, I hope he gets better enough to finally leave you and find someone to give him that baby he wants."_

My hands shook on top of the table, and I bowed my head further.

 _His hand was groggily uncoordinated as I sat down on the side of his bed and took his fingers in mine._

 _He seemed frustrated as his head turned slowly to watch his lack of motor skills as I squeezed his hand excitedly. He couldn't squeeze my hand back as he'd wanted to._

 _Then, he opened his mouth to speak to me and his eyes went wide and panicked._

 _He couldn't remember how..._

 _I wanted to look away as the doctors worked around me, checking vitals and doing random tests. I slowly felt my joy fade into the realization of reality._

 _I didn't look away._

 _Would I ever hear my name in his voice again?_

 _'It's okay.' I said as softly and sweetly as I could imagine to him as he looked at me in a panic. 'It's okay. Everything's fine. It's all fine.'_

 _That's when his left hand came to his mouth, tracing his speechless lips in an uncoordinated lurch as he began to cry._

 _I climbed into bed with him, letting him cry while I stayed strong, my jaw clenched in defiance._

I gritted my teeth together.

 _"You've got to get me out of here." He begged me, his eyes wild and crazed._

 _"Emmett, you were in a terrible car accident and you need to be here in the hospital." I said, stroking his hair._

 _He flinched away from my touch, his heart rate increasing on the monitor._

 _"I'm sorry." I mumbled, thinking I'd hurt him._

 _"Please, doctor. I can't be here anymore." He begged me, reaching for my hand in an odd jolt. "These pills make me see things. I don't want to take them."_

 _"Emmett, you have to take these pills. And… I'm not your doctor. I'm your wife." I said in a hollow tone, reminding him for the fortieth time this week._

 _"My… wife?" He puzzled, frowning as he desperately searched his dark abyss of a mind._

I was desperate for a deep breath.

 _It was something called Haloperidol._

 _I stroked his cheek, but he stared straight ahead. I doubted he could even feel it. He was in the padded cell of the medication, and deep within the dark confines of his broken brain._

 _"Emmett, my love, my darling, I know you're in there." I said, as I stared straight into his tired, dead eyes._

 _The doctors said he wouldn't register anything I did or said, but I didn't care._

 _I imagined he did. Maybe not in his eyes or ears, but I imagined he could sense me and feel me somewhere deeper._

 _Surgery after surgery… One problem solved… Another arises…_

I felt a hand on my back, and I sat up with a startled jolt.

"Amen." Peter repeated, his eyes darting over me.

I made the sign of the cross and looked over at him with a pleasant and plastered smile.

He was worried, and his expression wasn't the only one full of concern as I pulled my gaze up and saw five other pairs of eyes fixated on me.

They all quickly darted away.

"You have a lot to pray about." Valentina said innocently, trying to excuse my odd behavior as everyone else had said their amens apparently long before I had.

I did have a lot to pray about.

Valentina's long, dark hair was braided from a high ponytail that came down to her lower back, and a pink bow sat like a cherry on the top of her round face.

Valentina was missing her front two teeth, making her even more adorable as she gave me a supportive smile. Her smile was wide like Maria's and Emmett's and her big brown eyes shared the space on her face half and half with her smile with just a tiny nose in the center.

Little sprigs of curls framed her face like a halo. She was six, but was small enough to look four.

"V!" Camila hissed under her breath.

I tried not to look over at Camila, but I couldn't help it, and my eyes fixated on her.

As adorable as little Valentina was, Camila was as beautiful.

She was a skinny little nine year old, with long limbs and knobby knees. Her neck was long and swan-like, and her hair was dark and curly to add a mature gracefulness to her gangly, childish figure.

Camila looked so much like Maria that she had traces of the feminine version of Emmett's features.

It ached deep in my core to look at Camila because I thought about what mine Emmett's daughter would have looked like, but now it just hurt to look at her because it reminded me of him.

And oh, how I missed him.

The car accident that was supposed to kill Emmett was almost a month ago now.

It had been a long road, and there was still a long road ahead.

After the first time Emmett woke up, something was wrong that none of us could understand.

It was too complicated.

The doctors had unconfidently thrown around tons of possibilities, some even suggesting I sign the dreaded 'plug pulling' papers again and again each time he'd go back into a coma.

I waited though. A long month of what seemed like hopelessness and doctors that thought I was too young, too pretty, too stupid, and too female to make any rational decisions patronizing me _again and again_.

They kept talking slow and using condescending language as they explained things, telling me statistics and case studies about how the chances of his recovery were nonexistent.

But, he had proved them all wrong plenty of times already, and I had faith in him.

He was in there…

As yet another doctor pressured me to sign the plug-pulling papers again, Emmett woke up each time.

I didn't think it was possible for things to get worse from there.

I'd tried to get back to work as thousands upon thousands of dollars in medical bills began to pile up.

Everyone in the world didn't know how to talk to me or deal with me, but I was really okay. I was handling it, and I was staying as busy as I could, but I hated leaving him.

I looked down at my empty plate and furrowed my brow as I tried to center myself and pay attention.

I heard Maria and Peter in the kitchen now, trying to whisper and remain discreet, but whispering was not something in Emmett's families wheelhouse.

"Enzo had to carry her out of the hospital today to get her here." Maria mumbled. "Em isn't good at all, Dad… I don't know how to describe it. It's like… It's like he isn't in there. Today, he was looking at me, but I… I couldn't see him."

"Oh God…" Peter sighed, under his breath. "What are the doctors saying?"

"They're trying _everything_." Maria said, her huge eyes seeming vast.

"He's frustrated though and he can't process that frustration correctly so it's just… it's coming out badly. He told Rosalie he _hated her today_ while I was there just as plainly as if he was talking about the weather."

My chest ached as I recalled Emmett's eyes staring straight into mine as he told me with very convincing sincerity that he hated me.

My husband thought he hated me.

"She knows that's not him, right? He doesn't really mean…"

"I'm sure she does." Maria shrugged, her eyes darting down as she saw my eyes gazing over their way.

I swallowed, looking down at my empty plate as Carmen took it.

"I can help you." I said, focusing my eyes on her face as I began to stand from my chair.

"No, it's fine. I've got it." She smiled a tight, reassuring smile.

"Please let me help you." I said a little more intensely than I'd anticipated.

I needed to stay busy.

Carmen's deep brown eyes caught mine and she pressed her lips together. I saw such deep sadness swimming in her chocolate brown eyes that perfectly mirrored my husband's.

I felt like the world was spinning, and I felt nauseous so I looked away from her.

"Okay." She agreed.

I knew it was eating her alive not to ask me the one question she wanted to ask me.

 _'How is he?'_

This holiday was hard…

The room was empty without his laughter. He was desperately missed and his absence left a gaping hole.

Carmen looked at me for a little too long, and I noticed her eyes start to get foggy before she looked away.

"I'm so glad you came." She breathed, reaching out to touch my face.

I tried not to shrink back from her touch, but I couldn't meet her eyes.

She brushed my hair behind my ear, and looked at me like she was looking at him.

Words wouldn't come so I clenched my teeth together.

Then, she reached out for my shoulders and pulled me close. I was taller than her just by a few inches, but in this moment I felt colossal compared to her as she ducked her head to hug onto me and press her hands into my back.

"Sometimes, he'd smell like your perfume." Carmen said in a shaky voice, hugging me tighter.

I willed my muscles to relax, but I couldn't. I couldn't relax. I was afraid of what might happen.

"Holding onto you is like holding onto him." Carmen continued, her voice low and her eyes closed.

"Not quite as good." I responded.

"Not quite." Carmen gave me a little smile.

"He loves you _so_ much, Rosalie." She told me, her expression changing into something I couldn't read as she pulled away.

"I know that." I kept an iron exterior.

High pitched squealing from the other room distracted me for a moment as the girls played happily together.

I sighed.

"I didn't want him to." Carmen said, looking over me with her wise, searching eyes.

What could you say to that? I knew her distaste for me, but I hadn't anticipated such honesty from her.

"I _really_ didn't want him to. I didn't know you that well, but I thought you were a privileged, blonde brat without a brain." Carmen emphasized, utter seriousness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." I said all I knew to say, frowning as I tried to process how to deal with this.

I felt my cheeks turn slightly red as I heard without a filter just how much she disliked me.

"He called me the morning you got married and asked what I was doing later that day and if I could come to his wedding." Carmen recalled, her eyes narrowing slightly in anger before she picked up some of the dishes off the table.

A hollow pang shot through my body as I reached down to help.

Our fifth anniversary was spent wondering if he'd ever wake up from a coma after his second surgery.

I just nodded, remembering the whirlwind in which we got married. That couldn't have been easy on her.

"You know, I was fifteen years old when I had Em." She laughed humorlessly, blowing air through her nose and changing the subject without any real closure on the subject of hating me.

"I didn't know that." I responded, still trying to process this conversation.

"At fifteen, I wasn't really ready to be a mother, but when I looked at him the very first time, it was… it was magic or something. I felt like I'd known him for a hundred years. I felt like I'd _always_ known him."

"I felt like I was a good mother, even though I made a lot of mistakes." Carmen went on, keeping her eyes away from me. "But… But the day we made it to America…"

The memory was heavy and she was struggling under the weight of it.

My heart was racing, and I felt dizzy.

"I remember every detail of that day." Carmen sighed. "That was the first day I felt that I'd really failed as a mother. I had thought I'd done the right thing by bringing my children to a place they could have a better life but…"

I gulped, looking at her with waiting eyes.

"Em was hallucinating that day because he'd given all his water and food to Maria and Pilar. He was taking care of them, and I'd been so wrapped up in my own fear and grief that I didn't notice my child was starving himself to death and hadn't eaten in 9 days. He _still_ does that. He pours himself out for others even if it means he's empty."

"I know." I breathed, wincing.

He does that for me.

"The second day I felt like I'd failed was the day we all met Peter." Carmen said, looking over at him with love in her eyes.

"Has Em told you about those scars on his back?" Carmen asked with darkness in her eyes.

I shook my head, thinking of my fingers tracing over the raised skin down his left shoulder and toward his lower back in three branch like vines, one of the vines ending in two short lines that were deeper scars. It was an odd pattern of scars, but I couldn't make myself crazy wondering how he'd gotten them because when I was supposed to know, he'd tell me.

Carmen took a deep breath.

"I've learned that if Emmett doesn't tell me something, I'm not supposed to know it. I don't ask him anything, because he tells me everything he wants me to know." I swallowed, my voice sounding tiny.

Did that make me a terrible wife?

"I couldn't for the life of me figure out what he saw in you, other than the obvious fact that you're young and beautiful." Carmen said, stopping to stare at me.

My stomach churned.

"But now, I get it." She said as a few tears started to race down her cheeks. "I get it. I really do _understand_ now _._ "

I looked over at her with wide eyes.

"I'm glad?" I said under my breath in almost a question, not knowing what else to say.

"He knew you better than I did so he saw it when I couldn't, but… I've never known _anyone_ as strong as he is." Carmen said.

I didn't feel very strong right now. I felt so weak, and I bit my teeth together and looked away.

"Rosalía…" Carmen spoke the variation on my name with heavy weight. "He can lean on you and rely on you like he's never been able to do with anyone else in this world. Even with me, his own mother who was supposed to be able to take care of him and parent him. But, I couldn't and I didn't. I gave him all the love I could, but he completely raised himself. He's always been more of an adult than me and his father and even Peter… Em was born an old soul, and he's never been able to trust that anyone could protect him because no one's as strong as he is, and… But you, Rosalía… You are so… so strong and…"

Her eyes glassed over.

"You're so strong." Carmen swallowed. "After everything… It's not… It's not fair everything you've both…"

"I know. It's not fair." I pursed my lips, looking directly into her eyes.

I couldn't break, but I felt sick as I stared at her.

I tried to remain resolute and strong, but the room was spinning. I felt dizzied by the complexity of the tragedy at hand and all the memories of the past month of how he'd gone from not knowing who I was to hating me and back. I had whiplash.

I wanted everything to slow down for just a second. I sat the plates down on the table in a hurry and ran to the bathroom to drop to my knees and throw up.


	48. Inside Your Mind

So this chapter was very hard to write because I wanted it to all come out right.

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries! Currently,_ _I'm writing a scene between Rosalie and Pilar that I'm really excited about. I'm also looking at a scene for Elizabeth and Rosalie and Bella that I think is going to be very important.  
_

* * *

 _Inside Your Mind - The 1975_

 _I've been watching you walk_

 _I've been learning the way that you talk_

 _The back of your head is at the front of my mind_

 _Soon I'll crack it open just to see what's inside your mind_

 _Inside your mind_

 _Maybe I will wait until you're fast asleep_

 _Dreaming things I have the right to see_

 _Maybe you are dreaming you're in love with me_

 _The only option left is look and see inside your mind_

 _Inside your mind_

 _I can show you the photographs_

 _Of you getting on with life_

* * *

 ** _Peter - 1994_**

Nothing shocked me after a while.

I knew all my life that I wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and be a soldier, but I never got the chance.

The Vietnam War scared everyone. Even _me_ , when all my life all I wanted was to be a soldier.

I was fifteen in 1975 - too young to be drafted or enlist, but most of my friends died in Vietnam or never really even came _back_ when they came home.

Both of my older brothers were drafted and lost to Vietnam.

They didn't want to go… No one did, but I just wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and do something that really mattered.

I never got to be a soldier, but I considered this the next best thing, but I was devastated my father died before getting to watch me do it.

Growing up in a military family, I valued order. I had been NYPD for ten years now, and I'd taken Hunts Point in the Bronx willingly for my assignment.

 _No one_ wanted Hunts Point.

It was dangerous and hopeless and tragically sad, and most of the inhabitants's stories ended in a lonely death if they were one of the lucky ones.

Something drew me there, and it wasn't because I was an adrenaline junkie or was itching for gang violence and danger.

I'd seen more than I'd ever wanted to see in my time with NYPD. I saw unimaginable hatred and evil, and bore witness to some of the darkest parts of humanity.

Tonight was my last night at the Point, and it had been a long time since something took me aback.

There were syringes and pipes and bowls and other drug paraphernalia everywhere littering this squatter's paradise. There was nothing about that scene that surprised me.

It was just a normal Wednesday night in the dark side of Gotham and the deepest depths of New York's underbelly.

The nearly abandoned apartment complex was hauntingly empty, except for a few people that avoided my eyes as I walked in.

Immediately, something was new and different as I locked eyes with a woman who was obviously clean, sober, and terrified.

She was beautiful in the way a summer at the ocean was beautiful. I'd never seen her before.

She had sparkling round, brown eyes that took up a large portion of her face and long, wild raven black curls braided messily down the center of her back.

She looked strikingly young with her round face and girlish frame, but she had a skinny child on her bony hip that was obviously her own. Not only was it obvious in their shared features, but this child clung to the woman like a security blanket.

The little girl on her hip was crying, apparently traumatized by whatever the woman had called me about.

Tears streamed down the cute little girl's face, but she stayed quiet with her thumb in her tiny mouth for comfort.

They didn't belong here. They were too heavenly for this hell hole.

"Thank you for coming. I just didn't know…" The woman said in a rich, chocolatey voice with an accent that made it obvious she spoke Spanish as her first language.

"It's going to be okay, ma'am." I said, trying to ease the anxiety and fear in her eyes.

It didn't work, but she kept my gaze.

"I'm working, and… We're no trouble, but we just got here from Cuba and I've got papers and…"

I swallowed, my eyes darting down.

Cubans were special in immigration law; everyone knew that, but she was still terrified.

My partner snorted. He'd moved from Miami not too long ago and thought Cubans were nothing but trouble.

I shot him a look. This woman was obviously shaken up.

"We can help you if you let us. You said there was an emergency?" I prompted.

The woman nodded, her face turning white as she turned. I assumed to follow her, and I was on edge - prepared for anything.

I was always on edge.

We followed her toward a back room, at the end of the hall and down some wobbly stairs.

A rat ran in front of my feet and I stepped back, a creak in the floor. Bugs and cockroaches infested this place, and it was hardly livable, but it was completely free of any drugs. It was very obvious she took pride in this place to live in with her family, but this was true poverty.

There were very few belongings, and there weren't any sheets on the one bed or makeshift cot in the corner.

Leaning next to the makeshift cot on a pair of knobby knees was a young teenaged boy with gangly limbs. His head of raven black curls leaned against the crumbling wall and the bones in his face were so sharp they seemed to threaten to puncture his olive skin.

He didn't have enough to eat.

It hurt to look at him as he sat back on his knees. He didn't wear a shirt and I could count his ribs through his skin.

"He wouldn't tell me anything. My daughter Maria did. He's hurt, but he won't talk to me about it." She said. "I… I'm just afraid he's gotten into something he shouldn't… He's… spirited…"

The boy's big brown eyes floated up as we fully entered the room, and his eyes were sunken in his head.

One of his eyes was turning black with a deep bruise like he'd just been decked.

He was most likely being initiated into a gang. I'd seen this sort of thing before, and they kept getting them younger and younger.

"What'd I tell you?" My partner said smugly, insisting he was trouble.

The woman and her son spoke to one another in short, quiet Spanish.

He sighed and laid down, seemingly exhausted.

I noticed immediately that the boy's wrists were red, blistered, and raw. His skin was burned like there'd been something tight around his hands he'd been struggling against.

The burns were fresh.

My stomach dropped.

He saw that I was staring at his wrists and he hid his hands, his eyes darting away before my eyes could catch his.

"Please…" She prompted.

She spoke to him in Spanish again, and he swallowed, just staring at her.

He frowned a little, but the boy turned his head and shoulder ever so slightly in what resembled some sort of shame.

The first sight of bright vermillion blood immediately drew my attention to behind his shoulder and I stepped up past the others and the woman.

"Let me see." I prompted.

"He can't…" The woman mumbled as the boy looked up to me blankly, making it apparent he didn't understand.

As I made it to his side, reaching out to grab his arm, I saw it. He didn't have to understand English to know what had caught my eye.

He turned, ducking his head slightly. He was ashamed.

"Call a doctor." I ordered my partner, feeling sick as I dropped my outstretched hand.

The boy's eyes darted between me, his mother and sister, and the rest of the police force.

My partner, Frank, let out a curse word as he saw the same things I did.

"We've already called a doctor, but…" The woman said.

Of course they were still waiting.

I put my hand on the boy's shoulder as carefully as I could. He shrunk away from my touch.

"What happened?" I asked, scared to learn the answer as my eyes danced down the vine-like stripes of deep gashes down his bony back as he turned for me to see the full extent of his injuries.

His spine was bruised on each vertebrae from his neck and down to his middle back like he'd hit and rolled on the floor.

"I worked late, and so my neighbor was going to help with dinner… But Em and Maria weren't home…" The woman started. "Em isn't late. He doesn't do anything wrong. He always does what he's told. He's a good kid. And it was too cold for them to still be outside. They're not used to the cold… But, being outside and having the freedom to roam reminds them of home and so sometimes he'll be late, but never…"

There was no safe place to play outside here…

The boy's eyes rolled slightly most-likely due to blood loss and he sunk forward.

This wasn't good.

I took a deep breath, reaching out to put my hand on his shoulder.

"My neighbor found my little girl in the streets crying and alone… I can't… even think about it… I was at work… and… I just… If I'd…"

"Don't say that…" I started.

"Then, after I got at about three o clock this morning, he showed up to the door like this…" The woman was obviously incredibly shaken up. "Maria was inconsolable… I… I can't… My son said they didn't touch her, but…"

The woman began to sob, and the little girl on her hip darted her sad eyes over her mother.

I wondered what this young kid and this little girl had seen tonight.

The boy clenched his jaw as I looked over his back.

I wondered what made those gashes…

"Some sort of electrical wire." Frank nodded, answering my mental question. "Look, there's the plug. Those bastards."

He gestured toward two deep, short lines at the end of a vine.

One of the other police officers cursed and radioed for medical backup.

I gulped.

The woman shivered her hand coming to her mouth in disgusted shock.

The boy shrunk back from us, his gaze low. He was surprisingly independent for a young kid, and he seemed to hate for his mother to worry about him when that's what she was supposed to do.

"Who did this to you?" I asked the boy.

He looked up at me with vast, bottomless eyes full of words I wouldn't understand.

Something drew me to him instantly. He had a soul unlike any other soul I'd ever seen. He was good, and kind, strong, brave, and honest. I knew this just from one solid look into his eyes.

No one in this world was as open as this kid was. You could see who he was because he let you. He wanted you to see who he was, and know him even without a single word.

He tore his eyes from mine then, and said something to his mother in Spanish.

"He doesn't speak any English." His mom said.

"He's working really hard on it though and he practices all the time and…" She said this with wide, terrified eyes, like this somehow was going to make us unable to help him

"Do we got a translator here?" I turned around toward the group, hoping for an unbiased third party.

You could never be too careful in child abuse cases. This woman seemed honest and terrified and full of concern for her child, but it could've been a nasty boyfriend or something. I doubted it sincerely, but you could sadly never tell…

I liked to believe I was a good read of character. To me, this woman was an angel that had gotten lost and ended up in hell.

"I can help." One of the young women, new on the force, Ana Paula, said.

"Great." I cleared my throat.

The next few minutes were spent piecing together a story of unimaginable tragedy.

A man we immediately identified, his partner, a sad woman we'd gotten on drug charges plenty of times, and a couple other guys had seen the boy and his sister Maria on the corner of Cortlandt.

The boy said he couldn't understand them as they talked to him, but they kept looking at Maria. That's when one of the men reached out to brush her hair and pet her dress.

I immediately felt sick and wanted to look away but I couldn't.

The woman though, immediately clutched her daughter closer to her, closing her eyes.

The boy's eyes darted in concern over toward his mother and sister.

It made my chest feel hollow.

"Ask him about his back." I prompted.

She did.

The boy looked over at me. His black eye was getting deeper, but his face was white so he must be full of pain.

I swallowed nervously.

The boy and Ana Paula had a longer conversation, and I watched Ana Paula's eyes begin to widen and glisten.

The woman though, turned her back and immediately began to sob.

I waited expectantly.

"Can we talk to him privately for a second?" Ana Paula requested, and the woman looked back with tearful eyes and nodded.

"You must think I'm a horrible mother." She said in a ghostly tone.

"Not at all." Ana Paula said. "It's okay. Really."

She tried so hard.

The woman cried and some of the other officers guided her and the girl outside.

The boy's eyes darted around, and I could see he was concerned.

"It's okay." I said, even though I knew he wouldn't understand.

He looked at me though and nodded like he trusted me.

I took a deep breath, preparing for whatever story he was going to tell.

"He didn't understand what was happening, but they were yelling at him things he couldn't translate, and he knew they let his sister go so he didn't fight them." Ana Paula said to translate for me.

"They took him into a warehouse; he didn't know where he was but I'll bet you it's Saltzman's old place, and they tied his wrists down with rope, and hit him with an electrical wire. He said they wouldn't stop until blood ran like it was some kind of contest."

"He didn't know what he did wrong. He thought he was being punished for something." Ana Paula looked up to me with saddened eyes. "He thinks you only get hit when you deserve to be."

Those bastards.

"You didn't do anything wrong." I said, and though he didn't understand my words he understood my intent.

He swallowed nervously, but kept my eyes as Ana Paula translated.

He wouldn't stop looking at me, but not like he was trying to understand me.

He wanted _me_ to understand _him_.

"You're gonna be okay, kid." I told him.

At this, a dimple showed up on one of his cheeks.

* * *

 _December 14, Present_

"Em, I brought someone you'll be very happy to see!" Rosalie said, flitting into the room easily like a little fairy.

She smiled, trying so hard to be optimistic each time she entered his hospital room. I knew it was getting harder and harder.

"Hey kid." I said, knocking on the door lightly with my knuckles to announce my presence.

He looked up. It was incredible physical progress now as he sat with his elbows on the table. His head was still intensely bandaged, and he still had a brace around his right wrist, but his bones were healing.

It was his mind and his spirit that were still broken.

Determination in his eyes kept him upright, and he pushed to sit up straighter.

"Today's not been a very good day for him." The nurse started, speaking like Emmett wasn't sitting there.

Emmett wasn't deaf, but maybe he wasn't processing. I didn't see the words register in his expression.

"I don't think he's up for anything." The nurse kept his eyes on Emmett as he watched him try to write his name.

Emmett frowned as the pencil in his hand awkwardly hung around his uncoordinated fingers.

He cursed foully.

"There's a lady present. I thought I raised you better than that." I half-heartedly scolded him with a little laugh.

He looked at me like he knew me, but no emotion was readable on his face.

His eyes caught mine, and time stood still. I thought about the first time I looked into those brown eyes.

The first time I could see exactly who he was.

I felt like I knew him when I looked into his eyes. He let me know everything about him as he opened those metaphorical windows to his soul.

Now… he looked like a stranger and the shutters were closed and locked up tight. No light passed through the windows now.

I shivered.

It was a bad day.

"He's left handed." Rosalie corrected the nurse immediately in an authoritative and protective tone, reaching out to take the pencil from his right hand.

"Don't touch me!" Emmett gasped, turning quickly to shy away from her touch.

The pencil clattered to the floor.

My heart dropped.

Emmett looked absolutely defeated as his eyes followed the pencil to the floor.

He took three quick inhales that seemed a little irrationally panicked.

"It's okay. Look, I've got it." Rosalie said, grabbing the pencil for him and sitting on her knees next to his chair.

He looked at her, but he wasn't in his eyes.

That much was obvious.

Rosalie gave him a little smile, holding the pencil out for him. He tried to focus on taking it from her with his left hand, but the coordination seemed too much of a feat and so ultimately he frustratedly swatted her hand away, furrowing his brow.

The pencil clattered to the floor again. Rosalie picked it back up and set it on the table this time.

He looked at her like a defiant child throwing a temper tantrum. His chin jutted out determinedly as he pushed the pencil back down to the floor.

"Do you know who I am?" Rosalie asked him calmly, putting the pencil back on the table and keeping her hand over it to protect it from his vexation.

He looked down at her hands; his eyes wide as he nodded.

"Rosalie." He mumbled.

"That's right. How do you feel about me?" She asked just as easily.

I knew it had become routine.

He looked up at her now.

"You're my wife." He answered like he'd rehearsed it. "So, I love you."

Rosalie nodded, a smile on her face, but there was something missing in her eyes. She couldn't be sure if he really remembered, or just remembered what he was supposed to say.

She swallowed, her eyes darting down.

"Yeah, you do love me." She cleared her throat, staying strong.

He didn't say anything.

I watched Rosalie's face fall in disappointment, then she reconstructed her exterior.

It made my stomach feel hollow.

She knew that was his limit. And you could see that she was afraid she'd pushed him too far.

She tried to talk to him, tell him things he'd be happy to know. I tried to tell him about boring things and update him on the mundane.

This seemed more safe.

We both had to tread lightly. The smallest things would point him to the gaps in his mind and once he found one of those gaps, it was impossible to pull him back from those edges.

He fixated on what he didn't remember…

"Do you remember Henry? Vera and John's son?" She asked, keeping her hands busy rearranging some flowers in the corner.

"Yes." He answered easily.

His eyes followed her, observing her and trying to process her.

"They sent a Christmas card and he's just absolutely as darling as ever. He's gotten so big in such a short time it seems impossible. I forgot to bring it today." Rosalie said, keeping her eyes on the flowers. "I'll remember it next time. I think you'd like to see it."

Emmett didn't say anything. He just kept watching her.

"Have you looked outside? It's snowing and it's supposed to snow all week." She looked back at him, and he looked away from her.

"No." He mumbled.

"I know you love the snow." She tried with a little smile this time.

He swallowed, not returning her smile.

"Do you know why?" He asked her, not like he was testing her, but like he was testing himself.

He really didn't know. He couldn't find that information in his mind.

"Because… because you think it's beautiful?" Rosalie answered with a little question in her voice.

Her smile disappeared.

"Do I?" He looked down.

"You do." Rosalie told him. "And… And it was snowing when I told you I loved you."

"Really?" He inhaled.

Rosalie nodded.

My heart ached.

"Why don't I remember?" Emmett asked, and I heard tension in his voice.

"It's okay. The doctors said you might get your memory back in pieces. That just might be a missing piece right now." Rosalie tried.

"Might…" He repeated.

"It's okay, Em." Rosalie tried to convince him, _and_ herself.

"My head hurts…" He mumbled, his hand coming up to reach for where the pain was.

Rosalie reached out, guiding his hand back down so he wouldn't touch anything he wasn't supposed to.

She looked toward the nurse as she pushed his hand back down to his side.

"Kid, it's okay. Do you wanna lie down?" I started.

"No." He gritted his teeth, refusing.

I watched panic start to rise in his eyes, and I tried to respond to it. I put my hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged me off.

"Hey, why don't you get some rest?" I suggested.

"I want to die." Emmett said plainly, looking directly into my eyes.

The words hit me like a ton of bricks and I was taken aback.

This was obviously not the first time Rosalie had heard this because it didn't shock her; it just made her sad.

"No, you don't." Rosalie sighed.

"Why didn't you let me die?!" Emmett asked. "I can't walk. I can't think. I can't write my name. I can't do _anything_."

He shoved the pencils and papers that were on the table into the floor with an uncoordinated lurch.

"Emmett." I scolded.

Rosalie stayed sitting up perfectly tall, iron stoicism in her expression.

"Because I love you." Rosalie said.

"Well if you love me, then _let me die._ It hurts to breathe. I'm in pain, Rosalie. I'm suffering, and you're the one keeping me here." He begged her, his eyes full of fire. "This is _not_ living."

" _No_. I can't." Rosalie stood up to him, grabbing onto his wrists.

He fought her and she looked at him as she waited.

His breath caught and he took a gasping inhale irrationally. His eyes flooded with something subconscious like a defense response and he looked desperately into Rosalie's eyes.

"Don't just stand there. Give him something." Rosalie ordered the nurse coldly and sharply.

The medical staff responded to Rosalie like they would a queen who ruled her kingdom with an iron fist.

They were all afraid that she'd say 'off with your head' at any moment.

Honestly, she might. But, she wouldn't have anyone else do it. She was brewing with so much anger, she'd do it herself.

"I mean, it is time for…" They came into the room with about a thousand different colored pills.

"Just do your job without me having to tell you to do it." Rosalie checked her watch. "You're three minutes late."

Rosalie was a young girl, and in more ways than one recalled the delicacy of a flower, but she was inconceivably strong. She was _far_ from delicate.

It became obvious very quickly what drew Emmett to her.

She was strong. She was intense. She could fight ruthlessly.

And she fought ruthlessly for _him_.

"Three minutes…" The nurse protested.

"Makes a huge difference. Are you _minimizing_ what I'm saying?" Rosalie snapped, cutting her off. "He wasn't in pain three minutes ago."

"Yes ma'am." The man was older than Rosalie but definitely didn't have any authority over her.

I was just always glad I was never the one at the other end of her punishing glare.

"I'm not taking that." Emmett panicked.

"Emmett…" Rosalie took his wrist trying to get him to stop fighting her as she wrestled with his arms.

"No!" He protested, and she stumbled back a little as he pushed her.

She was strong, but he'd gained just a fraction of his strength back so he was easily overpowering her.

"Hey kid, listen to Rosalie. You need to take them." I reached out, trying to get Rosalie to give up.

"Emmett, darling, you have to take these pills." She shook me off not even acknowledging I was there, her eyes were laser focused on him. "You wanna get better?"

"No, I don't." He said irrationally.

"You do." Rosalie said sweetly. "You do… For me."

"No, I hate you! I _hate_ you!" Now, Emmett yelled, right in her face, wild like a rabid animal.

"You love me." She clenched her jaw and stood her ground.

"Ms. Hale, he doesn't know what he's saying…" The doctor said, his hand hovering over her shoulder.

Rosalie reached out for him again, and he tensed up.

Emmett made a series of noises that sounded so alien and strange that I had to consciously remind myself who he was.

"I know. But, he's the love of my life and I am his. He knows that." Rosalie said, willing that to be true as she tried again, reaching out for him.

The hope in her eyes was astoundingly heartbreaking.

This time, he tilted his chin down, his eyes going dark.

"Emmett, stop, baby." Rosalie whispered. "Calm down."

"Don't. Touch. Me." He growled at her.

"Em…" She started.

He couldn't rationalize or process anything like a normal person could, and it made me worry he'd never be okay ever again.

Emmett blinked, his eyes focusing on a thousand things at once it seemed as he turned away from her. Then, his arms changed position, like he'd dropped something. He looked down at his hands, moving his fingers oddly.

"Emmett," Rosalie reached out to touch his face, and he swatted her hand away, standing up from the chair he sat in.

He was off balance so he ducked into the wall, his shoulder thudding into the concrete.

He closed his eyes his hands coming up to the sides of his head.

He screamed in response to the excruciating pain of the bump on the wall and the agony in his head.

I'd never heard screaming like what I heard next as he buckled over, his hands shaking and hovering on either side of his head as he tried to catch his breath.

I hated watching him in pain, and I wished there was something I could do. But as much as it pained me to watch him suffer, it _tortured_ Rosalie.

She was breathless, feeling every ounce of pain with him.

"Emmett, let me…" Rosalie started, stepping forward out of instinct.

It all happened quickly then.

He whirled around and smacked her square in the face with a loud crack that sounded like a gunshot.

"Emmett!" I yelled his name, and before I even thought about it, had yanked him backward.

He was severely off balance and I grunted trying to hold him up.

More doctors rushed into the room and grabbed onto Emmett to help me pull him away from her.

They easily took him from my grip, and before long his wrists and ankles were in restraints in the center of his hospital bed. He arched his back, fighting like a wild prisoner. He screamed and writhed and suffered in a way I never wanted to witness again.

They got him sedated enough to stop screaming. I couldn't look at him like that and I shifted my focus, finding Rosalie peeling herself out of the floor where she'd landed.

I reached out my hand for her, but she shrunk away from my help.

Blood poured from her busted lip and nose and stained her snow white skin and light blue sweater.

"Rosalie…" I started, the oxygen being sucked from the room.

Rosalie's eyes held an emotion I didn't understand as she stood from the floor and took stock of the blood on her.

Her fingers traced over the redness under her eye.

Her hands shook as she lowered them so he could see what he'd done.

Then, as Emmett calmed down enough, their eyes met in cosmic and otherworldly way. Their gaze held each other's as only their gazes could.

I thought this - for sure - would snap him back from whatever edge these doctors had him at.

Her unbelievably purple eyes crystallized though and hardened as she looked over at him.

He looked down at the shackles on his wrists, then back up into her eyes.

"Ms. Hale…" One of the doctors started.

They all exchanged glances and I looked over at her. She stumbled.

"Rosalie, you should get someone to look at you." I thought.

He'd knocked her lights out.

"Let me get cleaned up." She requested with the strength of a command, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

I was frozen in my spot as I watched her walk toward the restroom.

My stomach was in my throat.

Emmett frowned, trying to focus and concentrate but not doing a very good job of it.

The room was silent, and no one knew what to say, then after a long moment that seemed like eternity, Emmett made an odd painful sound.

His eyes looked far away and foggy, but he looked toward the door Rosalie was behind.

That's when we heard it.

There had undoubtedly _never_ been tears like this in the history of tears.

I'd never heard crying like this. Never.

She gasped for breath, deeply feeling every bit of emotion she'd held back at the shock of this physical pain.

But the most intense pain was undoubtedly more emotional.

Rosalie was the kind of girl that never wanted you to know too much about her, but over the past five years, I'd observed one thing.

She trusted my son more than she trusted anyone.

I knew just through the grapevine what she'd been through to bring her to him. She found a haven in him.

In this moment, she really believed he'd died in that car accident. The person she'd known and trusted and found such peace and solace in had died in that car accident.

Now, she was in mourning.

I looked at him, and his eyes found mine. In those big brown eyes, I saw him again.

He was there, and he was desperate.

He needed me right now as much as he had the first night I'd met him.

I understood him now even better than I had that night.

He needed me.

"Rosalie." He spoke her name in _his_ voice.

My legs felt heavy as I turned toward the door, knocking lightly before opening the door.

She'd kept it unlocked.

She stood there in front of the mirror, her eyes locked with her own as she wiped her bleeding mouth.

"Hey, let me help you." I told her.

Her breath caught deeply, and she sobbed freely and openly as I had never seen anyone do before.

She was broken.

Rosalie didn't acknowledge me, and she looked down at her sweater, noticing her own blood staining it. Her hands shook but she unbuttoned her cardigan, slipping it off her trembling arms.

Blood still dotted the neck of her blue long sleeved shirt, but it was a lot less noticeable than her outer sweater.

"I'll take it." I said, and she nodded as she handed me her sweater.

Her empty hands shook as she looked back at herself in the mirror, catching her tired, crying eyes and sobbing even more.

"He didn't mean it." Rosalie breathed, staring at her eyes in the mirror so it became obvious she wasn't talking to me.

She was talking to herself.

"He didn't mean it." I repeated her words, and this time she looked at me.

"I should've been a school teacher. I should've married an ordinary, plain, lazy, ugly, man I didn't love. I should've just…" Rosalie said in irrational spurts.

"I wasn't with him…" She whispered. "God, I wished I was with him."

"Thank God you weren't in that car, Rosalie." I said softly, testing.

"I want to die too, Peter." Rosalie said, her eyes finding mine intensely.

"No, you don't. You can't." I stumbled over my words.

"I'm too scared to do it myself so I just want someone to be kind enough to do it for me." Rosalie said in a ghostly tone.

"Oh, God… God, you're so cruel." She spoke upward. "Let us die together. I can't stand this anymore. Let me be with my husband."

She closed her eyes, begging for this horrible thing.

I couldn't help it. I reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

"No. Don't say that." I pleaded with her.

Her violet eyes were red and glassy as she looked back at me, not apologizing for the horror she'd spoken.

"I'm so damn selfish." Rosalie growled.

"No, you aren't." I argued lightly.

"He's in pain. He's suffering, and I… I couldn't let him die just because _I_ needed him. I _need_ him, Peter. I can't live a second without him. I _won't_."

"You did the right thing." I mumbled.

"His biggest fear is being his father…" Rosalie started, her eyes far away. "Being a prisoner in his own mind…"

I felt my stomach drop. I hadn't ever heard a single word about his biological father.

A sour taste entered my mouth.

"And, I'm letting that happen." Rosalie's purple eyes went dark.

I still didn't know how to respond.

"I'm the worst wife. I… I'm letting him suffer." Rosalie mumbled.

"He loves you." It was all I knew to say.

"After all this, I don't know how."

"Listen Rosalie, we're all here to help you with him. We can help." I said trying to reassure her.

"Okay." She whispered, and this time she turned away and left the room.

She didn't cross in front of him as she left the room and closed the door behind her in a gesture of finality.

When I returned to his room his eyes searched for her until he finally succumbed to the sleep and medication he was so powerfully fighting.


	49. Ask A Woman Who Knows

THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS! It always makes me happy to read what you think. I love and appreciate your support! I have been smiling seeing what you have to say!

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!_

 _Review to make me update faster!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I have a looooot mapped out - pretty much I'm just working on a way to wrap this whole thing up but it won't be any time soon no worries!_ _  
_

* * *

 ** _Ask A Woman Who Knows - Dinah Washington_**

 _I'm not the only sorry one_  
 _Just ask a woman who knows_  
 _The days are long_  
 _Oh, but the nights are longer_

 _I got the lonesomest blues_  
 _You know my only consolation_  
 _Is I ain't got nothing more to lose_

 _So there you have the story_  
 _Of a love gone wrong_  
 _That used to blossom like a rose_

 _Oh, I'm not the only broken heart_

 _Just ask a woman who knows_

* * *

 **Pilar**

"Will you turn that off?" I mumbled.

I was elbows deep in cookie dough for my stepson Gabe's first grade Christmas party.

I'd never been much of a cook or even domestic in the slightest before I married my husband and we made our own little family.

Growing up, my family had expressed its love through food, and my dad had that restaurant in New York at one time, but but after he died, it just hurt too much to be in a kitchen without him.

I felt too alone.

But, something had changed in me.

I loved my new little family more than I thought I could love anything, and I loved remembering what it was like to feel like I was a part of something. After my own family had died, I never thought I'd find this feeling again…

But, in some kind of miracle… I did.

My darling husband Will came into the kitchen and clicked the power button on the television remote.

"Looks great, honey." He grinned, kissing me on the cheek as he looked down into the sticky, messy dough.

"Oh, shut up." I took my hand out of the dough to stick some on his nose.

"That's got to violate some sort of health code." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, my heart dropping again when I remembered why I'd asked him to turn off the television.

It was mindless celebrity gossip on a talkshow with no intellectual value. It usually served as background noise while I cooked, but something had caught my ear.

When it was about them, it always did…

 _'It's not even newsworthy anymore to talk about Rosalie Hale being a frigid bitch.' A pretentious talk show host named Nora had said, pushing back her chocolate brown hair with a manicured hand._

 _Of course the word bitch had been censored on television, but she got her point across just fine._

 _'Are you kidding me? I live for her! She's forever my queen.' A man named Brad in a smart suit and funny looking shoes had said, clapping his hands together._

 _"Why?!" Another one of the women at the table named Holly sighed. 'It's just all predictable. Fashion's golden child grew up to be a brat.'_

 _'She just rules her kingdom with an iron fist.' Brad sat forward, crossing his knee over. 'Rosalie's always been ruthless, and I love it!'_

 _Nora groaned and rolled her eyes._

 _'Well, Rosalie had a very public yelling match with one of her assistants recently that was apparently about mistaking ten minutes on a schedule.' Holly responded. 'That's ridiculous.'_

 _A short video played then that was terrible quality, but sure enough Rosalie Hale was shrieking grievances at an assistant about a car that was seven minutes late to pick her up._

 _'She was probably just trying to go visit her husband on a break! I mean, he is still living at the hospital, and she_ is _still working. I would…' Brad tried to convince people, but they weren't having it._

 _'If I was married to her, I would've jumped in front of a truck too.' Nora interrupted._

 _'Oh my God.' Brad covered his mouth, his eyes wide._

 _Brad then went on to defend Rosalie and talk about all the tragedy and grief and hardship that never seemed to evade her or her husband…_

I hadn't wanted to bother Rosalie in such a tragic time, but I couldn't kid myself. The real reason I didn't call her was because I was scared.

I was terrified.

But, I should have called her…

Baby Rose wasn't a baby anymore, but I could imagine she needed someone right now.

I called Carmen though, and she'd cried on the phone with me for hours.

Not Em…

This couldn't happen to him. Not to him…

It killed me not to be in New York, but what could I do?

I hugged my husband closer. I kissed my kids and didn't mind one bit how long it took me to get them to sleep.

"I'll get it." Will said at the knock on the door that ripped me from my reverie.

"Thanks, babe." I said, focusing on the cookie dough once more.

"I'll get it too!" Gabe said, racing his father to the door.

"No, me!" Our daughter Jess tried to keep up but she was only three and she was a little thing.

But, she was a spitfire.

I heard the door open.

"Gabe, Jess, go upstairs." I heard Will say in a very serious tone.

I cleaned my hands off as I listened, but the voices were low. His change of voice alarmed me.

Without protest, I heard the pitter patter of little feet up the stairs.

I was overwhelmingly curious when the door didn't immediately close like it was a missionary or something. I dried my hands and tossed the towel on the counter before I rounded the corner out of the kitchen.

I thought I was hallucinating when like a phantom, Rosalie Hale stood on the other side of my threshold with suitcases in her hands.

I blinked, thinking I was just imagining it all.

She wore a deep blue jacket with the hood up over her white blonde hair, but I knew it was her when she looked up to find my eyes.

I immediately noticed the dark black bruise under her eye along her cheekbone. Her purple eyes were red and tired and her face was sallow and pale. Her lips were white except the little vermillion colored gash along her bottom lip on the same side as that bruise.

"What the hell?" I couldn't filter the exclamation.

"I didn't know where else to go." Rosalie's voice was haunting and ghostly and I couldn't help but shiver at its empty sound.

Will shot me a look of confusion, but I couldn't find his eyes. I was still tethered to Rosalie's gaze.

She stood expectantly on the other side of the threshold. Like a vampire, I knew she had to be invited in.

"Will, take her bags into our room." I said.

"Pilar?" He said my name in a question, begging to be let in on whatever mystery was brewing between us.

I let my eyes free of Rosalie's for just a brief moment so I could look into my husband's.

In a moment when our eyes met, I knew he understood enough.

He reached out for Rosalie's bags and I noticed Rosalie's shaking hands as she handed them over.

Her feet were still rooted to the front porch.

A million thoughts ran through my mind before I told her to come in.

"I… I didn't know where else…" She began to repeat herself as she stood in front of me, shaking like a leaf.

"It's okay." I told her.

Her bottom lip started to tremble, and it became obvious she didn't believe it as she tossed her arms around me and began to sob into my shoulder.

* * *

 _8 days later; December 23rd_

"If you bleed to death and it gets on my floor, I'm going to kill you." I said, noticing Rosalie was washing dishes and had a long carving knife in her hands.

It was 2 a.m. and the entire house was asleep, but I couldn't sleep.

The color under her eye was changing from purple to a light green, but the blank, glassy look in her eyes hadn't changed.

She looked up at me.

Her eyes were so hard to look into that I was so often tempted to look away, but it was like I'd been hypnotized and I couldn't.

Or maybe, she was just Medusa and I turned into stone every time I looked at her so I just had no hope of looking away.

Nevertheless, my eyes were locked into hers in this moment.

She tilted her head to the side like she was thinking thoughts far too cosmic for my mortal mind to understand.

So much about Rosalie had changed since that first day I'd seen her with him.

She had grown up, sure, but we _all_ had. This was a striking difference that was beyond all that.

Rosalie was existing on a different plane than the rest of the natural world. She was floating, like a spirit, through our normal and mundane lives, but she was so far removed from it. She looked so out of place in my kitchen just washing dishes. She belonged on a stained glass window inside of a cathedral. She belonged in a storybook about myths and legends.

She had died a long time ago, but she was still here, through some mystical medium standing in my kitchen.

"Okay." She breathed in an extremely creepy way.

I sat down on the barstool and watched her silently.

It was easier to explain the way I felt around Rosalie when I imagined her as a ghost.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" I asked her, trying to find a new subject.

"No, I'm fine." She wrinkled her nose slightly.

"Well, I do, so pass it over." I told her, nodding toward the glasses and bottle behind her.

The corner of her mouth turned up slightly.

"You've always been so… _funny_." Rosalie said in her breathy, old Hollywood voice as I began to pour my glass.

She talked like she knew me, but she didn't.

We were just strangers to each other, but the strand which connected us was a very strong one - _him_.

I rolled my eyes, knowing she didn't mean the word she really said. She was just alarmed by my directness.

I'd always just been very blunt and honest in a way she never had been able to be.

She was a _lady_ obeying the ancient rules of whatever that meant to her and her New York society.

I watched her drying the same pan over and over.

"I think it's dry now." I raised an eyebrow.

She looked down, knowing she'd been caught trying to stay busy instead of sitting down and talking to me.

"I…" She started.

I called Carmen and told her Rosalie was here the day she'd shown up. Carmen was worried of course, and Peter had told her what had happened.

But, I didn't have to be a genius to know that Em had hit her.

She knew he didn't mean it. She knew he wasn't himself. She knew that it was irrational and far from any decision he'd consciously make. She knew he would never do that intentionally. She knew he loved her.

She knew…

But, she was mourning and grieving nonetheless because she knew this wasn't _him_ and she didn't know if she'd ever get him back.

I saw that she was wrestling with all of this behind her eyes.

I saw that she was confused. I saw that she was struggling. I saw that she wanted to forgive him, but she didn't know how.

If this was who he was going to be now, that would always be a part of him…

He'd hit her.

She'd stayed for us for a little over a week, and though she'd never fully told me any of this - I was observant.

I sighed, wishing for words to say to her.

"I'm sorry if I woke you." Rosalie enunciated her words in an old-fashioned way that would've been annoying if her voice wasn't so perfectly velvety.

"No, it's fine. I couldn't sleep." I shrugged.

"Me neither." Rosalie said, looking down at her hands on the counter.

I saw her looking at her wedding ring. It was impossible not to notice that rock on her finger. It's a wonder she could lift her hand.

But, the weight of the diamond was no match for the weight of what all that wedding ring represented.

I found myself fiddling with my own.

"You need to go back to your family." I finally said.

Christmas Eve was tomorrow, and I loved Em so in turn loved Rosalie; if she wanted to stay here for Christmas, of course we could host her, but Rosalie could not be away from him on Christmas.

She shouldn't be away from him on Christmas.

He needed her even if he didn't know it.

Rosalie looked over at me with searching eyes again. Whatever she'd come here to find, she wasn't finding it.

She took a deep breath, and I imagined she was about to evaporate into thin air.

I tried not to blink so I wouldn't miss it.

"I used to think you were jealous of me." Rosalie said without missing a beat.

It took me aback to hear her say this, and I tried not to stare at her with an open mouth.

"I'm _not_ jealous of you." I snorted, a faint blush appearing on my cheeks.

I was never one of those girls that worried about vanity, but I mean, I was Rosalie's _mother's_ age, and I tried not to think about that. And, though the years had started to show in my face, and my hair, and my body, she was still young.

But, she wasn't young in a vibrant way. She was young in the way a painting of angels is young - eternally frozen.

Her youth was _sad_ , and how could I be jealous of that?

And... honestly, I was always too self-assured to ever be jealous of anyone else. But, she didn't seem like the type to imagine people like that existed.

"When I married Emmett, I imagined that you were jealous of me. And, I liked to imagine _everyone_ was… Because I was beautiful, and he loved me, and we'd always be happy… We'd always get what we wanted…" Rosalie trailed off, her eyes opening to let me in.

"But… all that seems _ridiculous_ now, because… _No one_ would be jealous of me… I've buried a child… I've watched my husband fight for his life…"

"Rosalie…" I breathed, trying to interrupt her before things got too dark.

Suddenly I understood her in a way I hadn't before.

However, understanding her this way was like looking into a light that was too bright and I wished desperately that I could go back to not knowing the sorrow and pain she'd just allowed me to know.

"Do you think Em and I are being punished?" Rosalie asked with wide, open eyes.

"By whom and for what?!" I asked, trying to make sense of her.

"God? the universe? Whatever's out there trying to keep things balanced. I think Em and I were too happy - too in love - too… _much_."

I scoffed, but she was dead serious. Her sincerity made me shiver.

"No, I don't think you're being punished." I responded through my teeth. "Nothing made you deserve what's happened to you."

She didn't say anything to this, and her eyes fought for mine before she said what she was going to say next.

I wasn't prepared for it.

"I want to die, Pilar." Rosalie said to me, immediately plunging into the depths of darkness. "I hope for it every day."

"You can't die." I sighed.

My heart raced and I stared at her, seeing the calm sincerity in her eyes. This was not a raving response to an overflow of emotion. This was calculated and serene.

That's what terrified me.

"Rosalie, you have your whole life ahead of you. You're so young and… you can do anything. I know it's hard to see it right now." I heard my voice getting higher and higher pitched.

"I don't want anything but Emmett." Rosalie said.

My stomach felt empty and pained.

"And he's in New York." I said, not knowing what else to say.

It worried me that I couldn't change her mind.

"No, he isn't." She said in an ominous way. "I look into his eyes, and he isn't there, Pilar. He isn't."

I shivered.

"He's still your husband." I tried to offer.

She swallowed nervously.

"My husband is dead." She choked out.

The words seemed to burn her throat as much as they burnt my ears.

"Don't say that!" I snapped. "You can't give up on him!"

It was quiet then.

Rosalie stared into my eyes, and I challenged her big purple orbs.

She looked away, apparently not used to people challenging her.

"You've talked to Carmen." She said, not as a question.

I didn't respond. I didn't need to.

"She's thinking I gave up on him." Rosalie said.

"Carmen's just…" I started, but didn't know how to finish.

"Carmen doesn't know me, and she's never taken the chance to." Rosalie said strongly. "Though, I've never really given her a reason to want to…"

I didn't know what to say.

"So, she's wrong." Rosalie said with conviction that made me tremble. "Pilar, you know I will _never_ give up on him…"

Did I know that?

I couldn't say anything.

"And I haven't." She said strongly.

" _Please_ come to New York." She looked into my eyes, pleading with me now. "Emmett needs you."

I couldn't help but stare at her with an open mouth now.

Was this what she'd come here to get?

"I can't." I responded.

"Pilar, _please_." She begged in a shaky, panicky tone. "I came here because… because you can always fix him, and I need you to fix him, please. Please, Pilar. _Please_."

I looked at her with wide eyes, not knowing what to say as I saw tears start to form in her eyes.

"I can't fix him, Rosalie." I breathed.

"Yes, you can!" She shrieked in a whisper so she wouldn't wake anyone up. "I need you to. Please. Help me."

"Rosalie…" I started. "Tomorrow's Christmas Eve, and you need to be with him. You should go, but I'm not going with you."

"What?" Rosalie frowned, her hands coming up to her temples, and she closed her eyes.

"I have three kids to take care of. I can't just…" I started.

"No, tomorrow's Christmas Eve?"

"Yes." I laughed humorlessly.

"Oh." She sighed, looking enormously confused.

"Pilar, I'm so sorry." Rosalie began, composing her voice again. "It's just absolutely dreadful of me to drop in like this with the holiday here and…"

"Rosalie." I cut her off powerfully.

She looked over at me.

"I know why you came." I started, my heart racing. "It's the same reason _he_ always kept me around. I connect you both to something else. For him it was home, and for you… it's _him_."

"But, I can't fix him." I continued my heart racing. "I never could. I just kept him alive. I'm no better than any of those tubes and wires at the hospital."

"But, you can bring him back, Pilar." Rosalie told me with confidence. "You can remind him who he is and…"

"No. Rosalie. I can't." I shook my head.

Rosalie swallowed.

"You know… You haven't been Baby Rose for a long time…" I started, my heart beginning to race.

She stood silently on the other side of the bar, avoiding my eyes as I trailed off.

"But, I remember that first time I saw you with him." I dove deep into the memory.

She really was a _baby_.

"It was obvious to everyone but him how hopelessly in love with him you were." I snorted with a chuckle.

Rosalie's cheeks turned a slight scarlet and she kept her eyes down.

"But, it was also obvious to everyone but _you_ how you'd changed him." I expanded and now Rosalie's purple eyes found mine.

"To be himself and to live again, he just needs _you_. He needs you to remind him how to live…" I said. "He needs you to show him who he was, who he is, and who he wants to be. He can see that in you, and he always has been able show him who he is, and you give him purpose and reason. You love him, Rosalie, and you always have - better than _anyone_ else."

My heart was in my throat now, and I didn't have anything else to say. Hopefully this was enough for her.

"I do _love_ him, Pilar." Rosalie breathed, with wide open eyes.

"I know you do." I said with a little smile. "And you _will._ "

"It scares me becuse… I… I don't know who he is anymore." Rosalie whispered, her bottom lip quivering. "It's like… I don't recognize him. I look in his eyes and he's looking at me, but… I can tell he isn't there."

"Rosalie, he's still your husband." I tried to offer some comfort.

She clenched her jaw, exhaling determinedly so she wouldn't cry. She blinked her long black eyelashes a few rapid times to clear her eyes.

I saw the strength evident in her stoicism in the midst of such tragedy and I admired her, but I had to admit I pitied her.

"He's still in there. He's just trying to get out." I attempted.

"You haven't seen it, Pilar…" Rosalie's tone was ominous and dark.

"No, but I've seen him look at you enough to know he will always find his way back to you." I said. "No matter how lost he gets."

I wasn't one for sentiments, but this wasn't that. It wasn't metaphors or exaggerations of love. It was just… It was the truth.


	50. Various Storms and Saints

I AM SO SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY. I have been dealing with a lot in my personal life, and the holidays really took a toll on me...

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm going to try and update ASAP with the next chapter. I have it mapped out and will try to have it up before the weekend. I appreciate y'all so much!_ _  
_

* * *

 ** _Various Storms and Saints - Florence and the Machine_**

 _And the air was full_  
 _Of various storms and saints_  
 _Praying in the street_  
 _As the banks began to break_  
 _And I'm in the throes of it_  
 _Somewhere in the belly of the beast_  
 _But you took your toll on me_  
 _So I gave myself over willingly_  
 _You got a hold on me_  
 _And I don't know how I don't just stand outside and scream_  
 _I am teaching myself how to be free_

 _The monument of a memory_  
 _You tear it down in your head_  
 _Don't make the mountain your enemy_  
 _Get out, get up there instead_  
 _You saw the stars out in front of you_  
 _Too tempting not to touch_  
 _But even though it shocked you_  
 _Something's electric in your blood_

 _And people just untie themselves_  
 _Uncurling lifelines_  
 _If you could just forgive yourself_

 _But still you stumble, feet give way_  
 _Outside the world seems a violent place_  
 _But you had to have him, and so you did_  
 _Some things you let go in order to live_  
 _While all around you, the buildings sway_  
 _You sing it out loud, "who made us this way?"_  
 _I know you're bleeding, but you'll be okay_  
 _Hold on to your heart, you'll keep it safe_  
 _Hold on to your heart, don't give it away_

 _You'll find a rooftop to sing from_  
 _Or find a hallway to dance_  
 _You don't need no edge to cling from_  
 _Your heart is there, it's in your hands_  
 _I know it seems like forever_  
 _I know it seems like an age_  
 _But one day this will be over_  
 _I swear it's not so far away_

 _And people just untie themselves_  
 _Uncurling lifelines_

 _If you could just forgive yourself_

* * *

 **Robert**

"Damn it all to hell!" I heard Emmett exclaim vehemently, as a crash echoed from around the hallway.

I'd gone to grab coffee in the cafeteria with Elizabeth and I thought I could turn my back on him for one second.

It was Christmas Eve and there was still no sign of Rosalie anywhere. Carmen and Peter knew where she'd gone and told me not to worry.

She was in Miami for God knows why, staying with God knows who. But, apparently this random stranger of a woman that I'd _never_ heard Rosalie even mention - _Pilar -_ was _family_ and she'd take good care of Rosalie.

Something about this seemed fishy, but I didn't pry for any more information than I absolutely needed.

Carmen seemed to be housing a lot of conflicting emotions on Rosalie leaving right now. I could tell she distrusted Rosalie, as any overly protective mother-in-law would.

She worried that Rosalie picking up and going to Miami would turn into the way she picked up and went to Paris this time last year.

And, I had to admit, I was worried too. I was not worried that she'd stay far away geographically; I was worried about something worse - that she'd just detach and give up herself entirely again.

All in all though, it made perfect sense why Rosalie needed to go to Miami, and get out of the public eye.

I made sure to let Carmen know Rosalie couldn't exactly be photographed with bruises all over her face.

People would ask questions, and Rosalie would have to protect him…

She knew she couldn't be seen like that, and she couldn't exactly say she'd run into a door.

My own hands clenched into fists as I tried to rationalize what he'd done to hurt my daughter.

As much as it confused me, alarmed me, and shocked me that Emmett had it in him to hit her like he had - it was obvious that it wasn't him. I didn't worry about that part. He would _never_ do that to my daughter, and she knew this like I knew this.

I couldn't _blame_ him. He didn't know any better right now. I couldn't hold him accountable for acting out. I couldn't judge him. I couldn't _hate_ him for what he'd done.

But, did it make me a horrible person that sometimes I did?…

I knew my daughter so I knew Rosalie had left because she was _hiding;_ she couldn't face him.

After what he'd done, I couldn't look him in the eyes either, so in a way I hid from him in plain sight too.

Rosalie was also making sure _he_ didn't see her with bruises on her face. She was protecting him…

While Rosalie was gone, she called every day asking about him, but each time I asked her when she was coming home, she'd find an excuse to hang up.

Since Rosalie's absence, Emmett had another surgery, and the doctors finally got him to a better place…

Sort of.

What the doctors had been after since the beginning was to have his personality back. Rosalie said that was the most important thing from the very first surgery - to regain his identity.

She was right when she said that if he could just remember who he was and who she was, he'd have the strength to regain the rest.

I think that was the best decision, but it was also a hard one.

To regain his identity, some sacrifices had to be made.

And now, after this last surgery, he woke up knowing exactly what it meant when the nurses told him his name was ' _Emmett McCarty.'_

But, we as well as he now knew what sacrifices had to be made to get him to that point.

His fine motor skills showed no improvement with this surgery, though it was hopeful he'd regain them despite how his hands trembled and shook relentlessly now.

There was no hope of him writing his name any time soon.

He didn't sleep and had absolutely awful insomnia which gave him more time to get restless about being without Rosalie. He seemed lost without her, and every few seconds his eyes darted to the door as if to imagine her walking through it.

The biggest obstacle on the road to his physical recovery was still his legs. He'd been trying a little walking before, but after this surgery, he'd been knocked back to square one. He couldn't even stand on his own anymore.

As far as his mind, he had a little trouble with holes in his memory at first, but he could process these holes and identify the gaps with a lot more rationality. He knew what questions to ask, and he insisted that the information was there in his head, he just needed more time to go grab it out of the file cabinet.

The worst of it was probably that he had a lot of trouble with picking out the words he really meant; the doctors called it anomic aphasia and gave us lots of pamphlets on how to deal with it since it was looking to be more longstanding. He sometimes had a stutter now when he was trying to talk too fast or couldn't pick out the words he really meant. The doctors assumed it would go away eventually, but so far he hadn't shown any improvement.

The insomnia and lack of ability to concentrate was really weighing on him, but not heavier than his desperation for my daughter's return.

That seemed to be _all_ he could focus on.

But… He had _entirely_ forgotten was what he'd done to Rosalie.

He had no idea what he'd done or where she'd gone so he filled our ears with questions about her.

None of us knew what to say.

He asked about her relentlessly.

It was like it was something Mr. Hyde had done, and Dr. Jekyll was remaining blissfully unaware.

But, I knew…

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth finally got to the door, swinging over the threshold to find Emmett.

A few nurses had beat us to the punch and were picking Emmett up after a nasty fall.

"I c-c-can do it." He was clawing at the two metal bars on either side of him, trying to get up out of the floor by himself.

He stuttered as he tried to talk too quickly and focus on more than just his words.

He got frustrated extremely easily now, and I could see the burning rage inside his eyes at his own incompetence.

The nurses sighed.

"You can't just do whatever you want. You can still really hurt yourself." One of them said sharply.

Emmett just stared at her. He understood. He just didn't care to answer her.

He spoke a lot less since he first started having trouble with his words. He was ashamed - though there was no reason to be.

Now, his eyes found mine.

There was something in his gaze that looked like he was searching for something.

I still had no idea what to say to him.

My eyes darted down and away just as his did.

"Emmett, honey, are you okay?" Elizabeth asked.

She reached out for him and he shrugged her off with a ghost of a frown.

I swallowed and took the hand she had floating in the air still wishing to calm him down.

She sighed and laced her fingers through mine.

Finally, he nodded, keeping his eyes down.

"What were you trying to do? Anything we can help you with?" Elizabeth asked him, as the nurses settled him down into a chair.

Elizabeth had a heart that was beautifully nurturing. That was something I hadn't been exposed to. My own mother was cold; Rosalie's mother was even colder.

Elizabeth was warm like a spring day, and even though Rosalie had been too old to really be receptive to that warmth in her own growth, I knew that her nurturing was a special and invaluable skill that all of us needed right about now.

But Emmett, like my daughter, didn't respond very well to nurturing. He seemed annoyed by someone trying to take care of him, even though he desperately needed it right about now.

I wanted to shield Elizabeth from how unresponsive he'd been to her efforts to console and comfort him, but I didn't know how. He wasn't cruel to her, but he wasn't receptive at all, and I knew that had to hurt her.

"I… I f-f-forgot…" Emmett said, stumbling through the sentence. "I… know you've already told me, but I can't…"

Then, he made a face when he realized what he was saying, and he took a deep breath.

"It's like I forget, but then the second you tell me, it's… it's all there. I just, forget I knew. It's all there, I swear… It's all up there. I just… have to find it first." Emmett mumbled, justifying what he was about to ask me.

It pulled at the strings connecting my heart to my chest, and I watched his eyes search inward.

I knew what he was going to ask before he even found the words himself. I wondered if in all his searching he'd come across the darkest corners of his mind - maybe that's where he was hiding the memory of Rosalie's departure.

He frowned, still searching.

Would he find it?

"Rosalie's in Miami." I answered the question he hadn't formed yet.

The doctors had said we shouldn't try to finish his sentences or guess what he meant; we were supposed to wait until he could figure it out himself, but I was impatient about this subject, and after the fiftieth time he'd asked, I couldn't wait anymore.

Emmett's eyes were far away as he seemed to search the deepest depths of his mind.

Something told me he was close, that he was close enough to that memory to grab it by the tail.

I waited.

"I think I knew that…" He breathed, his forehead wrinkling as he tried to concentrate. "Have you been… been counting how many times I… I've asked?"

"It's okay." Elizabeth offered kindly.

"Is… Is she working?" Emmett asked, just as he'd done before.

"No." I answered plainly.

Emmett frowned trying to understand.

"Then why?…"

"She'll be back soon." Elizabeth spoke immediately, noting the worry and concern on his face.

I shot her a look and she shrugged. She knew saying this would comfort him temporarily, and then he might forget he was waiting for her to come back.

I sighed. Carmen and Peter would be here soon and then he'd be their responsibility.

"No…" Emmett shook his head.

This response was different and new. Elizabeth and I noticed that. Telling him Rosalie would be back soon had struck a chord.

We watched him in anticipation.

"It's Christmas Eve." He said, seeming to understand the concept of time passing. "She's been gone over a week."

I imagined his head would explode all over the wall behind him with how hard he was concentrating.

"Yes. She has." I swallowed.

"Why?" He asked in a mumble.

"Rosalie…" He said her name with an emotion I didn't understand.

Elizabeth and I waited.

That's when his big brown eyes met mine, and I watched them flood with as much shock, remorse, and self-loathing as one person can possess.

"Oh my God." He gasped in a breathless attempt.

I would've noticed how rapidly the machines were beeping if I weren't listening to my own heart in my ears. He looked like he'd been dunked in ice cold water but time slowed down as he sifted through the information now at the forefront of his mind.

"What have I done?" He asked in a strangled whisper.

He had melted under the sweltering heat of his hatred for himself.

"Hey, it's okay." Elizabeth reached out for him and he shrunk away from her.

"Leave us." I mumbled, kissing her on the cheek before I sat down across from him.

He was still processing and I felt a lump rise in my throat at the tortured look in his eye.

I knew what caused it, and I couldn't do anything about it.

"I… I hurt her." Emmett was crazed as he put his hands on either side of his head, like he was trying to hold the fluttering memory still so he could focus on it.

I clenched my jaw.

"You did." I said simply.

"Oh my God." Emmett gasped. "Robert… Robert, I'm so sorry."

I couldn't say anything. Had I forgiven him? Would I?

He curled forward, his fingers clutching into the top of his wildly curly hair. His back rose and fell rapidly before I knew he was crying.

I'd never heard anyone cry like this. It was full of hate.

"Emmett…" I started, not knowing how I was going to finish.

"Stop it." I suggested.

He didn't. He couldn't.

I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Is she okay? Did I?…" He asked, putting the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He was terrified of my answer.

"She's okay. You just scared her." I said with clenched teeth.

"I scared her…" Emmett said with so much self-hatred it was startling.

The entire memory seemed to become clear to him now.

"She… She was crying." He gasped.

I didn't know what to say.

"Oh God, I messed up." Emmett sighed.

"You did." I repeated with a nod.

I couldn't help but notice how improved his speech was, especially in the high stress of this situation. I guess a veil had been lifted and that was hiding back there too.

The human mind was mysterious.

I looked away.

"I don't know how to…" He worried, his loss of words coming from emotion rather than a gap in his mind.

"You'll make it right." I said, not knowing where this reassurance was coming from.

I cleared my throat.

"I need to go get her." He started to move, pressing down on his hands to lift himself because his legs didn't work.

I pushed on the center of his chest so like a house of cards he fell back down to the chair he sat in.

He took a deep breath, looking me straight in the eyes, hating that even in this way he was physically inferior to anyone.

"She'll come back when she's ready." I said.

"I've heard _that_ before, and she…" Emmett said through his teeth

"She went to visit your friend Pilar." I told him.

"What? Why?" He frowned like he knew something I didn't about who this woman was.

"To see if she could bring you back. Rosalie thought she'd know what to do." I responded.

Emmett cursed. There was something I didn't know, but didn't have the energy to try and find out.

"When is she coming home?" Emmett asked urgently.

"I don't know." I swallowed.

Emmett grimaced.

"But, I'd imagine she didn't want you to see her with a bruise on her face, so maybe soon. It'd have had time to fade by now." I sighed.

It was like I'd impaled him with my words. He sunk like he was physically in great pain.

I had gutted him through with my sentence and now his heart laid bleeding at my feet.

"Oh God…" Emmett had a queasy look in his eye.

I didn't know what to say.

"She'll never trust me again, Robert. I… This… Oh, God, this is the worst thing I could've ever done."

He was panicked and crazed, and I knew that it wasn't good for him to get this excited.

"I… I ruined her trust in me. She…" Emmett was heartbroken.

I took a deep breath.

"Rosalie's more resilient than you give her credit for." I finally said.

Emmett's eyes met mine, and he looked sick.

"She shouldn't have to…"

"No, she shouldn't." I finished his sentence. "But, she'll forgive you."

"I won't forgive myself." He breathed, his eyes darting down.

"You should." I said. "That wasn't you."

"Maybe not, but it's _inside_ me." Emmett said gravely, his eyes so dark they looked black. "I was always afraid that it was."

I looked at him.

"My father…" Emmett started, his eyes far away. "I hated when my mother used to say I looked like him. I didn't want to be anything like him.."

I knew Peter couldn't have been his biological father, but I'd never heard a peep about this other man. I didn't know what to say, and frankly, Emmett's dark expression was difficult to process. It was extremely out of place on his face.

"He'd… he'd hit my mom. He never meant to. Something would just… just _take over._ I told Rosalie… I told her I'm not afraid of much, but… but I'm afraid that… that I have _whatever it is that takes over_ inside me too."

I shivered.

Emmett looked away.

"I don't want to ever be out of control in front of Rosalie…" Emmett said with intensity.

"I know."

"I want her to feel safe…" Emmett breathed. "And now, after what I've done, I don't know…"

He trailed off, far away.

After a long moment, I spoke.

"Rosalie's half her mother you know?" I began in a mumble.

Emmett's eyes darted over my face, curious as to where I was going with this.

"So thank _God_ we aren't the people that raise us. Undoubtedly, they shape who we are for better or worse, but Emmett, we aren't sentenced to the same fate of our parents. You know that."

"Rosalie's half her mother. She's beautiful like she is, headstrong, independent… _tenacious_."

At this, the corner of Emmett's mouth turned up and in response mine did the same.

We both exhaled.

"But she's also half _me_." I said, my throat getting tight so I had to look away. "She's pragmatic and business-minded and is extremely driven. But, most of who Rosalie is she didn't get from either of us. She's… she's got a strong, huge heart, but she'd never let anyone know it. She can stick by someone's side relentlessly. She can love recklessly. She's… She's unbelievably tough. She can make it through anything. She didn't get that from me _or_ her mother."

Emmett nodded again.

"I know." He responded softly.

"When she married you, I thought she'd gone stark raving mad." I admitted. "I worried she'd jumped into the deep end of the ocean and hadn't even bothered to learn how to swim."

Emmett snorted, but obviously wasn't offended.

"And, I worried that she didn't know what marriage meant because… well because of her mother and I." I said in a mumble.

"But…" I began again. "But Rosalie's smart. She's not either of us. She understands what a covenant is, and she's made that with you."

Emmett was looking at me with wide, open eyes and he listened with grave sincerity.

"She knows she's… She's given you plenty of reasons to walk out on her."

I cleared my throat as I said this, the words sour in my mouth.

"But, you haven't. You've stuck by her, and you've pushed her to get better. You didn't leave her to fend for herself. You took care of her. Now, it's her turn."

"But she's not supposed to have to take care of me…"

"No, she's not, but that doesn't mean she won't when she has to." I cut him off. "You shouldn't have had to take care of her after… after last year, but you did. That's what a marriage is. She loves you, and when you can't carry your load, she will put it on her back. You've done the same for her. _Let her_."

There was a quick knock on the door, and I heard kids laughing and lots of chattering so it was obvious who it was before they even swung open the door.

"Merry Christmas!" Maria, Emmett's sister, sang as she came through the door.

Emmett beamed at the sight of her, seeming to gain color in his face that had been lost as she kissed him on the cheek.

The smaller of the two little girls climbed into his lap and he wrapped an arm around her as she immediately began talking about an ice skating adventure.

"Valentina, be careful." Maria scolded, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on Maria, I'm fine." Emmett rolled his eyes, but Carmen just winced as Valentina's face fell and she looked over at Emmett and retreated carefully.

"Robert…" Emmett started, as the room rose to new life around him.

"Yeah?" I said as I got up, ready to head out now.

"Thank you."

* * *

 **Elizabeth**

My heart raced as I closed the door to Emmett's hospital room behind me. God, it was heartbreaking to watch the life get sucked straight out of him like that. He didn't deserve the tragedy that seemed to follow him, and I wished so badly that there would be some sort of magic solution to this current problem.

However, the doctors insisted it was going to be a fight for the rest of his life. He was going to have to work at things that are so simple for everyone else. Right now, immediately following this surgery things were fine, but I was worried about the coming months… the following years…

Would he get discouraged? Would he be the man he was before? Would he forget what it meant to be alive? Would he get to a place so dark that nothing could pull him out?…

I shivered, walking toward the cafeteria as my stomach rumbled.

My heart broke as I saw families sharing Christmas Eve meals in the hospital with forced smiles of false belief that everything was fine.

My eyes lingered on a woman in the corner of the cafeteria staring down into her tea as she stirred it over and over like there would be answers in there, and I thought I was hallucinating how much she looked like…

"Rosalie?!"I gasped in shock like I was seeing a ghost as I stood in front of the apparition of my stepdaughter.

Her purple eyes met mine.

In the coming seconds, color seemed to come to her cheeks and an opacity to her skin that brought her back to the tangible world.

She was no longer a mystical ball of energy in the shape of Rosalie.

She was on the same spiritual plane. She was no longer far away.

Without thinking about how many times she'd told me not to, I sat down next to her and threw my arms around her before she could transform back into a ghost too far for me to ever grasp.

"Oh, Rosalie." I breathed, closing my eyes as I held onto her like she was going to slip through my fingers.

I was shocked by the feeling of her hands on my back as she returned my embrace.

"How was Miami?" I started as she pulled away from me eventually.

She tilted her head to the side like I'd spoken another language.

"Fine." Rosalie furrowed her brow.

"I've never been. I heard it's a lot of fun." I tried to make conversation.

"I didn't get out much." She shrugged. "And, I wasn't there to have fun."

I didn't know what to say.

After a long moment, she sighed.

"How is he?" She asked desperately, searching the expression on my face for clues.

"Better." I forced the corner of my mouth up.

She noticed and frowned.

"He'd do even better to see you." I said.

"What are the doctors saying?" She asked clinically.

"They're happy with his progress. He's… he's more himself." I said.

"Good. And, Dad said he didn't remember…" Rosalie mumbled, her eyes meeting mine and asking if she needed to say anymore.

"I'm honestly… _relieved_." She exhaled. "We can move on. I… I just have to forget too."

My stomach dropped and I wanted so badly not to have to tell her this.

"It came back to him this morning." I breathed.

I might have been imagining it, but I thought I saw the faint hint of green along her cheekbone that was the last remaining trace of the bruise.

My stomach dropped just as her expression did.

 _"She's just 23. This can't be her life now." Robert droned._

 _It was December, so it'd already been a month since the accident that was supposed to kill Emmett McCarty._

 _I shhh-d him frantically as I watched Rosalie round the corner._

 _She had a phone up to her ear, talking swiftly and animatedly as she paced. Her high heels clicked on the ground._

 _"Well, she could be a 23 year old widow if that'd be preferable to you?…" Edward had hissed, knowing Rosalie was otherwise engaged and wouldn't be paying attention to us._

 _"God, no! Edward… How can you say that?" Robert's eyes were wide and tortured so Edward no doubt felt bad for jumping that far. "I was just saying she can't… It's just…"_

 _I shot Edward a look but he pretended he didn't notice it._

 _"She's so strong, Robert. She can handle it." I tried to comfort him, but I was also trying to get the last word before she came over to sit next to us in the plastic, uncomfortable chairs of the hospital cafeteria._

 _She exhaled, sinking down into the chair across from me._

 _"I called the Times." Rosalie said, her violet eyes like gemstones, but they were far from sparkling._

 _She was in denial. Again. But this time, instead of being paralyzed, she was on hyper speed._

 _Rosalie was running herself into the ground, staying insanely busy and mind shatteringly numb._

 _"Rosalie…" I said calmly._

 _"They wanted to fact check about something they're running about Emmett winning some legal award. I called Carlisle to go accept it for him. The reporter was new so she didn't know…"_

 _"Rosalie…" I continued._

 _"What?!" She snapped, hating to be ripped from her controlled thoughts._

 _"Are you okay?" I asked carefully._

 _"Yes." She answered swiftly and matter-of-factly like my question was a major inconvenience._

 _"I know this is hard."_

 _"It's fine." She said strongly, but there was something new in her eyes that was on the point of breaking._

 _"How is he?" Robert asked._

 _"He's fine." Rosalie exhaled._

 _"What are the doctors saying?" I asked, nervous for the answer, because it varied so drastically from day to day._

 _"You know they're not… very helpful to me." Rosalie mumbled. "But, they want to have him home by the new year…"_

 _"Rosalie, that's great." Edward said with another tight, humorless smile._

 _She nodded slowly._

 _"You're going to need to hire some help." Robert suggested like he was treading lightly._

 _He should be. The look in Rosalie's eyes suggested she was just one word away from a breakdown._

 _She looked down…_

 _"No, I've got it." Rosalie finally whispered._

 _"Rosalie, he was such a good man and he's…" Robert started, reaching out for her._

 _"Was?" She snarled. "Don't talk about him like he's gone."_

 _She gritted her teeth._

 _"That's not what I meant, baby, I…"_

 _"Rosalie, he will always be different now." I tried to reason with her, and defend Robert. "Your life is going to drastically change. You're going to need help with him. Surely the doctors have told you that. It might not be permanent, but you'll need to hire full-time help for him at least for a little while. Just to make sure you're both… safe and he's recovering well. He's going to be very different now, and…"_

 _"I know!" She shrieked. "I know that! Don't you think I know that?"_

 _It was painstakingly quiet and everyone in the cafeteria seemed to stare at her._

"What has he said?" Rosalie asked in a rough voice.

I imagined I only had a few minutes before she'd shut me out like she always did.

She was supposed to be my daughter, but there were times I looked at her that I couldn't imagine being further away from a stranger.

I watched her drawbridge ascend, barring me from crossing into the fortress of her mind. Then, there would be a moat full of crocodiles between us as there always was.

"What is he saying?"

"Your dad's with him right now until his family shows up. I left before he could say anything, but I'd imagine he's torn up about it." I started.

Rosalie frowned.

"I know you've probably heard a thousand words of comfort, advice, and whatever else this past month…" I started, not knowing exactly where I was going with this.

"I have." She said, her eyes ablaze in a warning that I should tread lightly.

"You know, I…" I began.

"I don't want to hear any more." Rosalie cut me off. "Please."

I swallowed nervously. Her purple eyes began to melt my skin from my bones so I looked away.

It wasn't too dramatic to say that I was afraid of her.

She started to get up but I grabbed her wrist.

"Sit with me." I ordered as directly as I could.

" _Please_." I tried not to shrink back from her gaze.

Finally, she descended back to the chair across from me.

Rosalie kept her jaw clenched and her eyes down at her lap.

I tried to gain the words I wanted to say, but they were fleeting.

"When Edward's father… _did what he did_ …" I started in a shaky tone.

"I'm sorry." Rosalie said out of reflex, knowing I didn't want to finish that sentence.

"I questioned everything then. I saw our wedding photo and I asked myself if his smile was real. I wondered if he was really happy when he would play with Edward as a baby. I immediately began to distrust every memory I had of him."

Rosalie just looked at me with wide, bewildered eyes. We'd never been open with one another.

"When your father came to the funeral, the first thing I said to him was how I felt like I'd failed…" I breathed, old wounds opening up.

"I thought…. Maybe I didn't… Maybe my love wasn't good enough… Maybe I didn't give enough. Maybe I didn't _do_ enough…" I gulped. "I immediately asked what I did wrong. I thought about what I could've done more or less or. I thought about why I couldn't see it coming. I blamed myself for a very long time. I thought that maybe, maybe he wouldn't have…"

My heart was throbbing in my chest and I willed my strength to close the gaping hole that had ripped anew.

"He did it right before Christmas." I told her as if this detail was important.

"Elizabeth, I can't imagine…" Rosalie mumbled, her purple eyes softening.

"No one can." I said strongly, staring right into her purple eyes.

After a moment, she tentatively reached out for my hand. I took it.

"But please listen and know that I'm not telling you this so you'll know the pain I carry or even so you'll understand me better." I told her. "I'm telling you this because… because I know better than anyone that… Well, I know that it's easy to think that Emmett _chose_ to… to… to _hit_ you."

Her face went white at the mention, and her eyes retracted from mine just as her hand did.

She was rightfully still very vulnerable. After everything that had happened to her…

"But he didn't. He'd _never_ choose that. He was very sick when he did what he did, Rosalie, and… and even though it's different, it's still sort of the same. Being sick in the way your Emmett is and the way Edward's father was completely _takes away_ _choice._ Emmett didn't choose that pain he caused you any more than Edward's father chose mine."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I thought I saw Rosalie's eyes get glassy before she looked away.

"They've opened his head so many times, I'm afraid parts of who he was have just slipped out…" Rosalie mumbled, and though this was irrational and surreal, it was valid. "I'm afraid I've lost him forever…"

"I know…" I reached out for her now, saying all I knew to say.

"Emmett's never going to be the same." She breathed.

Rosalie spoke plainly, spitting out the words like she hated the taste of them.

I grimaced even hearing her admit that in her voice that had so adamantly denied this so many times before.

"The doctors have never known someone as headstrong as he is." I encouraged, trying to maintain a positive attitude. "He's already proven them wrong plenty of times."

If Rosalie broke, it'd absolutely break Emmett beyond all repair. I noticed how even now, he wanted her to be safe and protected. He was always trying to make sure she was okay, even when he didn't know who she was or who he was.

If she got upset, and he saw it now that he was back in his mind, it'd kill him, and he was already in a very dark place.

Rosalie had to keep faith, but I could only imagine how hard it was for her to do right now.

"I know." Rosalie nodded lightly and her eyes iced over as she looked down.

"You're both so strong." I said.

"I don't know how much more we can take." Rosalie said, fidgeting.

I didn't know what to say and I panicked, realizing the responsibility I had in this conversation to make sure Rosalie stayed strong. She was letting me talk to her, and know her and comfort her and I only wish I could do a good job - or at least a better job than her own mother.

"He's a stranger to me, Elizabeth…" Rosalie whispered, her bottom lip quivering. "It's like… I don't recognize him. I don't recognize him because… because I've started to think that… that we're… we're just becoming our pain."

"Rosalie, he's still your husband." I tried to offer some comfort. "You are not your pain. Neither is he."

She clenched her jaw, exhaling determinedly so she wouldn't cry. She blinked her long black eyelashes a few rapid times to clear her eyes. I saw the strength evident in her stoicism in the midst of such tragedy and I admired her, but I had to admit I pitied her.

"I know, but… but it's changed me." Rosalie said hauntingly.

"Pain does that." I said. "But, Rosalie, you are still young and you are in such a transitional point of your life…"

"That's why I'm afraid." Rosalie said. "If this is who I'm becoming, I don't want to."

Her purple eyes were fierce.

"And, and he doesn't want that either." She sighed.

"What are you talking about?" I furrowed my brow as I looked at her.

She cleared her throat.

"When we went to Tennessee to talk to that therapist, he… he mentioned that the therapist had told him that babies don't exist to fill your life or any holes in your heart…" Rosalie began.

"He said his gap is me. His hole is shaped like me…" Rosalie went on starting to break down. "Then… then my…. my mom… after my birthday she…. she said that she noticed Emmett's got a hole in him too."

She was sobbing now, and I hated the sight of it. Her pain was wounding me. I felt hollow.

"She… She said I can't fill it. She…" Rosalie wailed. "And… And Emmett said that too when he said that his gap is me…"

"He didn't mean it that way." I mumbled.

"He did." Rosalie said. "And he said… he said the rest of the emptiness is… he misses _himself._ He can't even find himself, and I can't help him. _"_

I couldn't pretend to understand her puzzle, but I listened.

"We're missing, Elizabeth. We both are." She sobbed. "And that was even _before_ all this!"

I was heartbroken, and my soul felt heavy.

"And… And I thought Pilar would know what to do. She loves him, and he loves her, and I don't understand it, but… but they _are_ each other." Rosalie sniffled. "But, she said she couldn't do anything - that it's me. I thought she was wrong, but she just told me he'd find himself when he found me, but Elizabeth, he can't. He really can't because _I_ can't even find myself."

She was running in mental circles and it seemed to start tangling together.

"You both just need time." I offered, brushing Rosalie's hair off her face.

"I can't do it." She sobbed. "How can I expect him to come back to me when I… I don't exist anymore."

"I died in that car accident. I died with… with Colette. I died when I was…. when I was raped. I've been dead Elizabeth, but I didn't know I was dead until he… he hit me." She covered her face with her hands now.

She wasn't making sense, but she was trying so hard to try and assign words to feelings and thoughts that were far beyond the barriers of language.

I couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight.

"He needs me, but I don't even know who I am." Rosalie sobbed. "I can't help him. I can't."

"Hey, Rose… Sweetheart, it's okay. It's okay." I stroked her hair, closing my eyes and feeling a tear escape down my own cheek.

I closed my eyes at the feeling my daughter curling up into my arms. I wanted so badly to siphon away all of her pain. I wanted so terribly to take it all away, and as I held her tighter I imagined I could.


	51. Matrimony

_It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _Notes on future chapters: I'm going to try and update ASAP with the next chapter. I appreciate y'all so much!_ _  
_

* * *

 ** _Matrimony - On & On_**

We are the picture of two young lovers

No time to waste our life with any others

You and me, babe, are the definition of devotion

Got together, honey, with no second thoughts

A love like ours just can't be lost

And people say love ain't real

Baby, we don't even care 'Cuz you and me, babe, we were built to last

Even if heaven tries to take you back

I'll love you on, and on, and on, and on

You and me baby runnin' out of steam

We got something like a masterpiece

I'm glad I'm the one you chose to be your dream

I know babe, we'll go through the fire and the rain

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _Christmas_

I rocked back on my knees in front of the toilet, draping my hand over the lever to flush.

Even though I'd cried enough to make myself sick, I still cried relentlessly on as I imagined seeing him again.

I hoped it was true. I hoped that what Elizabeth and my father had told me was true. Was he back? Was he himself? Could I trust that? Would I let myself hope? What if it wasn't true?

I would be the only person that would truly be able to tell.

I _missed_ him.

I tried to pull it together as I took my time brushing my teeth and freshening up the powder on my face.

I had cried all the tears I could imagine crying, but somehow I was still crying.

After some time of letting the redness of my eyes fade, I put my hand on the door knob and twisted.

My body still reacted reflexively to the sight of him as I opened the door.

He was my husband. I was his wife. The way we loved each other made it seem that no one in the universe spanning the history of time had ever been in love.

No one but us deserved to live or be in love.

We were special in a cosmic way. This I knew for a fact.

The earth tilted on its axis, and years from now scientists would discover that there was celestial change and cosmic rearranging caused by our eyes meeting in this moment.

It was a miracle.

Through thousands of years, and eons of conflict and struggle, we were looking in each others' eyes for the first time in many millennia.

It was late or early into the wee hours of Christmas morning because it had taken hours and hours to walk through this door and brave the darkness that tried to keep me from facing him, but as I looked into those big brown eyes, no decision had ever seemed more right.

"Rose!" Was all he could breathe as he sat up straighter.

He pushed up on the arms of the chair with staggering force to get to his feet, but I noticed immediately that it was like trying to balance an encyclopedia on a cooked spaghetti noodle, and as his knees buckled he launched himself forward and into me.

Luckily, the wall behind me caught most of his weight as Emmett's arms wound around me and pressed his hands into the wall behind my head. My back crashed into the wall and I gasped, my body tensing up.

I didn't mind being crushed in this moment though and as he buried himself into my hair and pressed his hand into my back one by one, kissing every bit of me he could reach, I exhaled.

It was him.

I was in the arms of my husband.

Nothing mattered as we desperately grasped each other and we began to get breathless. I felt my chest rising and falling rapidly as we kissed. I felt us initially trying to be fragile with one another, but knew it was useless as we began to descend into our usual inappropriateness with an edge of new desperation and need.

I smiled against his mouth, but he didn't notice before he pulled away from me.

"I'm so sorry. Rosalie, I…" He gasped. "I'm sorry. I'm…."

Emmett tried to get back on his feet in a way that wasn't trapping me against the wall, but it was no use, and so I melted back into the chair with him, sitting in his lap and keeping my forehead attached to his.

"Merry Christmas, darling." I whispered just to him ignoring the pain in his tone and, finding his lips in a way I imagined would all be better.

When I kissed him, it shocked me just how much I was kissing _him_. So, I just kissed him deeper.

I tasted salt, and knew it was a divine concoction of both our tears. It wasn't sad, though that's what I would've expected initially.

I was just so relieved to be kissing _him_ , that… that I began to come back into my own skin. I was coming back, but I was becoming new.

Like a grand metamorphosis.

I noticed his hands shaking on my back and I fidgeted in his lap so I could get as close to him as I could. He pressed his fingers into my skin and I hoped that my body would mold under his hands like clay.

"Rosalie…" He tried again, pain in his voice I never wanted to hear again.

"You're back." It was all I could think to say as I attempted to quiet his worry with kisses.

"I'm so sorry. Rosalie, I can't think… about how…"

"Then don't." I said, pulling back to look at him. "Don't think about it."

His bandages were new since the latest surgery just a week ago, but I noticed his hair had gotten longer as I pushed it back with care.

He frowned a little, looking deep into my eyes.

"But, you're afraid." He breathed. "You're afraid of me."

I looked away.

He could see the trembling of my heart through my pupils. He had a special vision of my soul.

"No, I'm not afraid of you." I said, taking his face in my hands and pressing my lips to his again, hoping for the end of this conversation even though it hadn't even begun.

I was afraid. But, he misunderstood what of…

He pulled away.

"Look at me, then…" He begged desperately.

I did as I was told and I looked straight into his deep brown eyes.

"You've been crying." He observed.

I ducked my head to lie on his shoulder now, partly because I wanted to be closer to him, but partly because I couldn't look into his eyes.

I was terrified.

He sighed, and I inhaled. I missed the smell of his skin, but in this stark white hospital room he smelled different and it wasn't like home.

I felt his fingers slowly spread before as he pressed his hands into my back, cradling my head and brushing his fingers through my hair.

I inhaled, truly content and finally able to relax into him.

He was here. He was back, and he was going to be okay.

This was the first time I fully let myself realize he almost wasn't. My body reacted and I craved him to be closer, proving to myself that he was here. He was alive and for all intents and purposes he was okay.

I found myself gripping him harder and harder until my hands had fists full of the fabric of his shirt.

That's when it all came rushing in, and somehow I found more tears to cry and I sobbed into his chest.

He misunderstood my tears.

"Rosalie…" He said in a pained, tortured tone.

I felt him begin to pull away, and greedily I used every bit of my strength to pull him back closer to me. I didn't want a centimeter of my skin to be separate from his for even a millisecond.

"I thought I was going to lose you." I finally told him through my tears, acknowledging the biggest fear I'd ever experienced and the most heartbreaking moments I had ever had.

The words burned my throat as they tumbled out.

"Emmett, I _can't_ lose you." I clutched to him tighter, wanting him closer.

"You're not getting rid of me." Emmett kissed my forehead.

"Em, I'm serious. I can't live without you." I felt my stomach drop to my knees. "I can't do it."

He looked over my face with big brown eyes, and I lost it.

"I thought I was going to have to…" I sobbed, burying my face in his shoulder.

He cradled me, trying to soothe me.

"Hey, don't cry about that, baby. It's okay." Emmett's voice was the greatest sound I'd ever heard.

"I thought you were going to…" I paused, collecting myself and pulling back so I could look at him, relearning every piece of his face.

I traced my fingers over his skin, memorizing how it felt with urgency.

"It didn't happen." He said softly.

"Then, you felt so far away." I breathed, tears still streaming down my face. "I thought you'd… you'd never come back."

"I'm sorry." It was all he could say.

"How did you?…"

"Because I was looking for _you_." Emmett answered easily, answering my question about how he came back.

I was immediately reminded of what Pilar said and I shivered.

Was she right?

"I… I can't explain it but it was like I was… Like my brain was looking through the holes in a blindfold. Sometimes it still is. I don't know if that makes sense."

I nodded.

I brushed my fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes.

"But, I found you…" He swallowed. "But when I found you, I found… I found what I did to you. Rosalie, I'll never forgive myself."

"Well that wasn't you. You don't have to forgive whomever that was. You're back now. You're right here. You're with me, and you didn't do anything. You couldn't. You swore to me." I said, nestling into his side. "You promised."

He looked at me like I had said something in a language he understood in a world that spoke a language he didn't.

Looking into his eyes as they were now, I remembered why I fell in love with him. He fought for me relentlessly. He'd claw his way to get to me. He'd walk through hell to get to me.

He had.

And now, he emerged.

He was back.

"Rosalie..." He kissed my hair, sweetly as I ducked my head back down to his shoulder.

"Everything we've been through… It's not fair." I wept into him now. "It's not fair."

"No. It isn't." He appeased me.

I sobbed into his chest still, clutching to him desperately.

"But, we're going to be okay." Emmett said, and I heard heavy emotion in his voice.

"Nothing changes." He tried to say.

I took a deep breath sitting back so I could look in his deep brown eyes.

"You're wrong." I corrected.

He just looked at me with open, receptive eyes. There was a touch of fear and apprehension that I found in those big brown orbs.

" _We've_ changed." I whispered.

I didn't have the confidence to say it any louder.

His eyes darted over my face.

"I know." He swallowed.

"Can you still love me?" I whispered, scared to even ask.

"Yes." Emmett answered confidently.

"In a thousand lifetimes, no matter who you are, no matter what you become." He said, looking over my face.

"Can you still love me?" He asked my same question and there was a deep apprehension and self-loathing in his eyes.

"Yes." I swallowed.

"I don't know how." He breathed.

"The same way you can love me." I said, searching his face and wishing I could wipe away the sadness. "Because there's no one else we could make it through… _all this_ … with but each other."

"You're right." He nodded, keeping his eyes down.

"But… but also because we remember." I started, taking a deep breath.

He looked up at me now and his dark brown eyes made me weak at the knees, but I said what I felt like I needed to say.

"We have history." I said.

"We do." He confirmed, but this didn't change the deep sorrow evident in his eyes.

I sighed, but didn't know how I could get him to understand what I was saying.

"When I was at Pilar's I found myself wondering if… if we're _addicted_ to the… suffering we share."

"Mmmm…." He didn't even say a real word.

I wondered what was going through his mind right now. Emmett stayed quiet, waiting on me.

"I… I remember when you took me to that first Yankees Mets game." I started.

"Yeah?" He looked at me with confusion in his eyes, but waited.

"I laughed harder than I'd ever laughed in my life. My sides were hurting so bad." I gave him a smile.

"You looked damn good in that baseball cap." He eased up his tone, looked over at me, and brushed my hair off of my face with an uncoordinated lurch.

He retraced his hand immediately and I could see he hated remembering he didn't have the coordination or motor skills he used to.

I took his hand and laced my fingers through his. Even though he couldn't really squeeze my hand back, he looked at me with an odd emotion in his eye before I saw the ghost of a dimple on his cheek.

"I'm not addicted to suffering. That's not why I've stayed with you, and I don't think that's why you've stayed with me." I said.

He shook his head, kissing my cheek. His contact left a fire that I wished he'd ignite again.

"You make me laugh, Em." I said, not able to fight my smile anymore. "No one makes me laugh."

"I know." He smiled a _real_ smile, and my heart had wings.

"I remember why I fell in love with you in the first place. I remember who we were, but… but mostly, I think… I think it's easier to still love each other because… because we know that things have to get better. We have to hope that we'll make it through and that tomorrow has to be better than today."

"It will." Emmett exhaled into an embrace, pressing his shaking hands into my back.

"It _has_ to." I responded.


	52. Haunted House

_I'm so sorry that I took so long to update. I've been out of the country, but now I'm ready to get to work on writing again!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _Notes on future chapters: Next chapter is in Emmett's POV so be ready for something that was hard to write, but that I'm really excited about! I'm going to try and update ASAP with the next chapter. I appreciate y'all so much!_ _  
_

 _Also, BardenBella24 love your Taylor Swift love! Next chapter is All Too Well just for you!_

* * *

 ** _Haunted House - Florence + The Machine_**

 _My heart is like a haunted house_  
 _There's things in there that scratch about_  
 _They make their music in the night_  
 _And in the day they give me such a fright_

 _My heart is like a haunted house_  
 _There's things in there that scream and shout_  
 _They make their music in the night_  
 _Wish I could find a way to let them out, oh_

 _Do you remember winding your arm around my shoulder_  
 _As we wandered 'round the hill?_  
 _Now I'm in that fog forever_  
 _In full collaboration with the weather 'cause_

 _I'm not free yet_

* * *

 **Bella**

 _January 29_

I don't think I'd ever seen something so beautiful in my life.

Rosalie's apartment had transformed into an elegant wonderland, and I couldn't believe that this was my baby shower. It wasn't over the top "BABY" but light pink was sprinkled around the apartment to nod to the girl in my belly.

"Rosalie did this all herself." Alice said, grabbing onto my arm as I followed her off of the elevator.

I grimaced, but turned it into a nervous smile as I waddled into the room.

"I love it!" I squeaked, my voice too high pitched to sound convincing.

In all actuality, it made me nervous.

I couldn't believe this was all for me… I couldn't believe that… this was all for the little bean growing inside of me - and even as I grew to be huge at seven months pregnant, it had never felt as real as it did right now.

In just a couple months, I was going to have this baby.

I started to feel sick and I tried to focus on anything else but the world spinning.

I heard the click of heels around the corner, and Rosalie appeared with a tall but round-faced baby boy about a year old on her hip. He buried his dark curly hair into her shoulder and Rosalie grinned down to him.

The image was enough to make me do a double take to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

This could've very well been Emmett's child, as dimples showed up on the baby's cheeks just like his. Of course it wasn't because he and Rosalie were nowhere to be found in the child's features otherwise - and because Rosalie's childlessness was still a pressing sadness amongst the rest of the tragedy they faced.

I quickly shook off the running train of thought, and focused on the smiling faces around me as I was greeted and hugged and kissed by the other women in the room.

My eyes inevitably darted toward Rosalie though and I tried to keep as normal an expression as possible, but I didn't know if I was doing a very good job of it.

Color flushed Rosalie's cheeks and I thought she looked shockingly _good_ \- all things considered.

Emmett was home now, and while this was ultimately progress, there was still a _long_ road ahead.

The hard part had seemed behind them, but no, it was right here.

Having him home now, Rosalie had to take care of him, and Emmett undoubtedly had a hard time accepting that she'd have to… _for a while_.

Edward told me that Robert said Rosalie and Emmett ultimately had realized they needed help, and flew someone named Vera and her family in from Tennessee to stay with them full time now.

Edward mentioned she was a therapist… not a nurse… this fact we found to be very significant.

I hadn't met Vera, but I assumed that she was the woman with dark hair standing next to Rosalie now.

The baby reached for the woman, and as Rosalie transferred the baby into the woman's arms it was obvious this was her son. That was Vera, and the baby was her son Henry.

I tried not to stare too long.

Rosalie's apartment was huge, but it had started to fill because she had also hired two full time employees of the house just to help with Emmett in the day to day. Rosalie had ultimately been reticent and vague with any information about Emmett, so I began to wonder.

It had been a month since Emmett came home and no one had seen him, but it wasn't for lack of trying. There was always something - an appointment, he was sleeping, Emmett was tired, it wasn't a good day, anything to excuse visitors from being allowed in; this sort of social reclusiveness wasn't like him at all, and of course Edward worried about his friend and brother.

Alice, Jasper, Edward, and I had dinner just the four of us a few times and it was shockingly evident the gaping hole Rosalie and Emmett left.

Without even realizing it, we had become a little family…

Edward saw Emmett for the first time today when he offered to take him to the doctor because Rosalie would need to be here with me. I hadn't heard anything from Edward about how he was, but I was nervous to ask Rosalie about him.

"Bella!" Rosalie smiled pleasantly, her velvet voice caressing the room.

"Is it too much?" She asked me, her voice low as she made her way to my side.

She made me feel inadequate already in regular life, but she looked exceptionally radiant today in a white, tea-length off the shoulder dress and her golden hair flowing around her.

My heart pounded in my chest.

"No, it's…" I felt a lump in my throat.

"I know you didn't want any over-the-top baby stuff, so I just…" Rosalie said, her eyes holding a meaning I wouldn't understand before she denied my eye contact.

I looked around, seeing cupcakes and sweets and different colored macarons decorating the tables and a few waitresses with more trays of goodies and finger sandwiches floating around the room.

This was… _a lot._

"No, it's… it's perfect." I pulled the sleeves of my cardigan over my hands nervously.

My heart skipped a beat and I didn't want to think too hard to find out why.

"You can hand your present to Michael," Rosalie gestured, stepping aside as one of her new employees came to take the box from Alice. "And, Susanna will take your coats and bags."

Rosalie spoke with authority over her house, and looked like a queen as she held court. I couldn't help but think about how different this was since the last time I was in their apartment for Rosalie's birthday party.

And totally different, the day would prove to be.

For an hour and a half she acted as a perfect hostess for my baby shower even though I knew she probably wanted it to be her own…

She smiled, and cooed at other guests' babies, and had Vera write down each of the gifts I opened and whom it was from. Trays of sandwiches and sweets were passed around the room. My coworkers and friends from the city, and even some friends that Rosalie had flown in from my childhood were showering me and making me feel so special. But, Rosalie was orchestrating it all - making sure the day went perfectly, and this was something that couldn't go unnoticed.

Then, Alice handed me the next gift, a box perfectly wrapped of course.

"It's from me." Alice announced proudly, grinning my direction.

My cheeks flushed scarlet and I started on the wrapping paper, feeling guilty for dismembering the perfect bow.

I lifted the white lace baby bonnet with a front ruffle from the box with an awe-filled smile. Under it was a matching white lace dress with a frilled collar and little pink roses embroidered on it.

It was small enough to be a doll's dress.

In the center of the collar was a cursive capital "C" for the name Edward and I had decided on….

Clarke.

After his father…

"Alice, it's beautiful." I breathed, my heart leaping just at the thought of a little part of me and Edward existing in this world…

And being that tiny…

"Your daughter will be the best dressed baby in the Tri-State area." Alice winked.

I took a deep breath, tears starting to form in my eyes as I produced a little blue box that even I recognized as Tiffany's. My fingers trembled as I fumbled with the ribbon, but eventually I produced a silver rattle with another engraved "C" on it.

"Th-thank you." I got choked up, looking down at my lap for a moment as Alice put her arms around my shoulders and squeezed me tight.

I felt so loved and celebrated and accepted in a way I hadn't felt with my own biological family.

Seeing that tiny dress, I could picture my daughter… At last, she wasn't just a faceless dream. She existed and she was a part of me and the person I loved most in this world.

My heart felt like it was going explode as I turned the rattle over in my fingers. Mine and Edward's life together with our daughter flashed before my eyes, and for the first time I wasn't scared anymore.

When I looked back up, I saw that I wasn't the only one with tears in my eyes. Rosalie quickly wiped one from her cheek with the back of her hand before it could make a streamer on her face.

Heartbreak was evident in her eyes, but more than that was just sheer _desperation_.

She kept her eyes down, trying to become invisible.

It took my breath to see that.

She looked away again, wiping a few more loose tears and hoping that it wasn't noticeable as the rest of the room chattered on full of life around her.

I cleared my throat and started on my next gift, not acknowledging anything had gone off.

Discreetly, Rosalie slipped out of the room.

I noticed Vera watching me watch Rosalie and she gave me a little tender smile.

I darted my eyes to the floor to avoid her green, all-seeing eyes.

"I'll be back…" I mumbled, my heart beating out of my chest as I pressed on the door to Rosalie's bedroom.

I tapped my knuckles on the frame.

"I just need a second…" Rosalie said from where she was lying draped over the fainting couch like an old time movie star.

She had her arms folded and her head buried in the crook of them. I heard her breath was off, so I knew she was crying.

"Can I come in?" I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Rosalie didn't answer me, but I still dared to step over the threshold.

I heard her sniffle, and my heart broke.

"I know this is hard for you…" I started, my voice shaking as I sat down on the edge of her bed.

"So, I really appreciate you doing this for me and… and trying to be okay with all this - with me having this baby…"

Rosalie sat up now and her red eyes found mine.

"Her name was Colette." Rosalie whispered in a shaky breath.

I didn't have to ask. She was talking about her own daughter. Her name was Colette…

A chill ran down my spine.

"That's beautiful." I murmured.

I realized that she must have been triggered by the C embroidered on the front of the dress.

My stomach dropped as my eyes did.

I didn't know what to say in the growing silence so I just looked up at her, but even that became too hard. Her tragedy weighed heavily on her, and I couldn't bear it.

"I'm sorry." Her bottom lip quivered and she covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry I ruined your shower."

"Are you kidding?" I sat down on the edge of her bed across from where she sat on the couch. "None of it would have happened without you. You didn't ruin it!"

She looked down at her lap, smoothing her dress with her trembling hands.

"What's her name?" Rosalie asked quietly still fixated, her eyes red and swollen from crying but she tried to smile like nothing had bothered her.

"Clarke." I responded. "Like his father…"

Rosalie's gaze found mine briefly.

I realized we hadn't told her we'd decided on a name in the whirlwind of this past month.

"That's so very special." She smiled emptily. "I know that means a lot to Edward… and to Elizabeth."

"It does." I swallowed.

She took a deep breath.

"I'm thrilled you're having a baby, Bella." Rosalie said in her perfect, velvety voice.

It sounded sincere, but I searched her eyes.

" _Really_." She confirmed her honesty, letting me into her depth. "You're good for Edward, and I have a feeling he's been good for you too."

She was right.

"But, we're going to need you, Rosalie." It was all I could say. "Me, Edward, and this baby…"

Without thinking, I tossed my arms around her hugging her tight.

It only took a few moment before Rosalie's icy exterior melted and she sobbed into my shoulder.

I closed my eyes, feeling her tears wrack through her body and wishing I had magic words that could stop them.

But, I didn't.

I had no idea what to say as I brushed my hand over her hair to try and soothe her.

Then, I realized that maybe it wasn't about what I said - it was just about being there for her and making sure she never felt alone. She probably wasn't even really crying about _this;_ she was probably projecting other emotions she'd had to keep pent up.

Rosalie seemed comforted by my continued presence, and her cries subsided in a short while.

Maybe…. Maybe I would figure out this whole mothering thing.

"You don't… _need_ me. I can't do _anything…_ " Rosalie said in a heartbroken, defeated tone.

"Yes, you can." I argued. "You have so much…"

I trailed off.

"Rosalie, if there's anything we can do to help you with Emmett, you'll tell us right?" I asked her, seeming to think this what was really under her heartbreak.

She pulled away, a frown on her face and her lips in a pout.

"How's it going in here?" Alice tapped her knuckles on the door, concern evident on her face.

I waited to answer, my eyes darting over Rosalie's face.

"We need to get back to your party, Bella!" Rosalie stood from where she sat, smoothing her hair and running her hands over the waist of her dress.

"You okay?" Alice asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rosalie's forehead wrinkled slightly.

"Of course." She responded easily.

"Rose…" She pleaded with her, grabbing onto her wrist before she could exit the room.

"I'm fine." Rosalie smiled a dazzling smile, assurance in her eyes.

And fine she acted as the party went on without a hitch. I noticed Vera watching Rosalie as she went back to being the perfect hostess.

As everyone filed out the door and Rosalie began tossing out the leftover wrapping paper and bags, I looked over to Alice.

"She's not fine." I said, low enough only she would hear me.

Vera let Henry waddle through the room and play as she and Rosalie cleaned up.

"I know…" Alice brought a glass of champagne to her lips.

Alice looked like her eyes were far away.

"You know, Emmett was on his way to meet Jasper and I for lunch…" Alice began. "I haven't told anyone that yet…"

"When he?…"

"Yeah…" She swallowed. "He'd initially suggested meeting at Jasper's restaurant, but… I said we should meet somewhere closer to my office."

"Alice, it's not your fault." I said, my eyes going wide thinking that's where she was going with this.

"I know…" Alice breathed, and I think she was really starting to know that.

"Jasper and I met this woman at Alec's school that's a caseworker for foster children…" Alice went on.

My stomach dropped.

"So we'd introduced her to Emmett… They'd talked a few times before and she'd told Emmett about a little girl that was just born in Virginia…" Alice's tone was dark. "He'd told her he and Rosalie wanted her… All he had to do was sign a few papers that day at lunch and she'd interview Rosalie within the week and do a home study and that little girl would've been theirs."

I couldn't hide the gasp of heartbreak and I covered my mouth with my hand.

"He'd told me he was going to ask Rosalie to marry him again that night - to start over… to start a family…" Alice went on, her eyes glassy.

"They're always so… _close_ … I just don't understand." Alice went on, looking down at her lap instead of at Rosalie.

I couldn't hide my tears now and Alice hushed me, rubbing my hair in a soothing nature.

"Bella, don't cry." She pleaded.

My heart was shattered into a million pieces. I couldn't help it.

"What's wrong?" Rosalie asked, noticing immediately as she sat down next to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Just being around all this estrogen all day's gotten her emotional." Alice teased with a little smile.

I sniffled a laugh, but I tried not to look over at Rosalie.

It wasn't fair…

"Oh, Bella." Rosalie sighed.

"Speaking of estrogen, can I have a tampon? I started a day early being around all these hormonal women…" Alice diverted, sending Rosalie on an errand so I could pull myself together.

I dried my eyes.

"Sure." Rosalie said, standing up from the couch and disappearing into her bathroom.

"Thank you." I exhaled, and Alice squeezed my hand.

"You're going to be a great mom." Alice whispered to me, and that absolutely melted me.

"You really think so?" I heard my voice shaking.

"I know so." She said confidently, kissing my cheek.

That's when Rosalie tore back into the room and had her keys in her hand as she threaded her trembling arms through her coat.

"What are you doing?!" Alice asked, wondering what we all were.

"I…" Rosalie's voice sounded odd and her eyes were wild as she handed Alice the tampon requested. "I have to go…"

"Emmett'll be back in ten minutes" Vera reminded her.

"Bella's staying to wait on Edward anyway." Rosalie justified, running her hands over her hair. "You're here for him right? I'll be just an hour… maybe two… I… "

She looked stressed.

"It's snowing." Alice said, trying to get Rosalie to stay in.

Rosalie's eyes darted to the window.

"I… I'll be back soon." She swallowed nervously as she opened the door. "Susanna and Michael will take care of things… Order food if you need… I…"

"Wh-" Was all I got out of my mouth before she slammed the door behind her.

Vera, Alice, and I exchanged a look, none of us able to figure out what had just transpired.

We finished cleaning just about the time the elevator doors opened.

My stomach fluttered with the thought of seeing Edward, and to be quite honest - I was nervous to see Emmett.

I didn't know what to expect, but nothing could've prepared me for the stranger in the wheelchair Edward was pushing.

I wouldn't have recognized Emmett. His brown eyes were empty and sunken and a smile was far from his face. His dark curly hair was long enough it touched his collar, and he looked thin. The scar over the left side of his head was covered mostly by the way his hair fell, but it still turned my stomach regardless.

His dark eyes searched the room, fixating on little flashes of a pink balloon or something

"Hey, you!" Alice tried to remain cheery and ducked to kiss Emmett on the cheek.

He gave her a smile, but he looked exhausted so it didn't touch his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him, and when he turned to look at her, I noticed the monster-like scar down his right side behind his ear.

Edward wound his arm around my shoulders as I felt my face turn green.

"And what's this?" She gestured to Emmett's left arm in a sling.

Emmett looked up to Edward…

Then, a boyish laugh escaped that reminded me of who he used to be. Emmett's dimples returned and I exhaled, relieved to see him.

"I was trying to show out for Edward during physical therapy and I fell and broke my collar bone." Emmett exhaled, seeming to make fun of himself but there was a darkness in his eyes that I knew he was suppressing.

"Because _someone_ doesn't realize it's only been _three_ months since he was knocking on death's door and he's trying to run a marathon." Edward joked back with him.

I tried not to notice that Emmett's knees looked so sharp and thin that they looked like they'd cut a hole in his pants.

"You got hurt on my watch so Rosalie will burn me at the stake and I'll never be allowed to take you anywhere again." Edward snorted.

"Where is she?" Emmett asked, his eyes floating around the room.

Alice and Vera tried to explain and have him not worry about her, but concern flooded Emmett's eyes.

"Did you have a good day, Bella?" Emmett looked over to me then grimaced at some sort of pain in his head as his free hand came to his right eye.

He closed them for a second as he tried to deal with what plagued him.

"I did. Rosalie made sure of it." I confirmed.

Emmett's eyes looked pained as he opened them, but he smiled.

"Of course she did. That angel." He said under his breath, the corner of his mouth turning up, but pain still evident in his eyes.

I smiled lightly, trying not to show it on my face just how heartbreaking it was to see him like this.

I watched the two new household employees exchange a glance. No doubt she was no angel to them.

Alice noticed too and gave me a look. I couldn't help but snort.

"You've got some medication to take. You can't tell your _angel_ wife we were two minutes late." Susanna said, handing Emmett a handful of pills then a glass of water.

I had to look away.

Edward sensed my emotion before even I did and he tossed his arms around me, immediately enveloping me in a safe haven.

I exhaled.

"How are you?" He asked just me, holding me tight.

"I missed you." It was all I could say.

"I missed you too." Edward sighed, lowering his lips to kiss my cheek.

"I love you, Edward." I told him quietly. "And… And we're so lucky. This baby's going to be so loved."

His green eyes searched my face, trying to find the source of my sentimentality, and I hoped he saw my newfound confidence. We were going to make this work.


	53. All Too Well

_I'm the luckiest girl in the world! Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _Notes on future chapters: Next chapter is Rosalie's POV I think... I might add a flashback chapter. **Is there anything you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

 _BardenBella24, here's your Taylor Swift chapter! I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 _ **All Too Well - Taylor Swift**_

 _I walked through the door with you, the air was cold,_

 _But something 'bout it felt like home somehow and I_

 _Left my scarf there at your sister's house,_

 _And you still got it in your drawer even now._

 _Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze._

 _We're singing in the car, getting lost upstate._

 _The Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place,_

 _And I can picture it after all these days._

 _And I know it's long gone,_

 _And that magic's not here no more,_

 _And I might be okay,_

 _But I'm not fine at all._

 _'Cause there we are again on that little town street._

 _You almost ran the red 'cause you were looking over me._

 _Wind in my hair, I was there, I remember it all too well._

 _Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turning red._

 _You used to be a little kid with glasses in a twin-size bed_

 _And your mother's telling stories about you on a tee ball team_

 _You tell me 'bout your past, thinking your future was me._

 _And I know it's long gone_

 _And there was nothing else I could do_

 _And I forget about you long enough_

 _To forget why I needed to_

 _'Cause there we are again in the middle of the night._

 _We dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light_

 _Down the stairs, I was there, I remember it all too well._

 _Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much,_

 _And maybe this thing was a masterpiece 'til you tore it all up._

 _Running scared, I was there, I remember it all too well._

 _Hey, you call me up again just to break me like a promise._

 _So casually cruel in the name of being honest._

 _I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here_

 _'Cause I remember it all, all, all too well._

 _Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it_

 _I'd like to be my old self again, but I'm still trying to find it_

 _After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own_

 _Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone_

 _But you keep my old scarf from that very first week_

 _'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me_

 _You can't get rid of it, 'cause you remember it all too well, yeah_

* * *

 **Emmett: Alphabet Soup**

 _U_

 _ni te_

 _d_

 _St_

 _ates_

 _v_

 _._

 _T_

 _o_

 _us e_

 _t_

 _Ha_

 _r_

 _va r d_

 _La_

 _w_

 _Re v_

 _i_

 _ew 2_

 _01_

 _9_

 _1_

 _1_

 _12_

 _Cr i_

 _m_

 _i n_

 _al P_

 _ro_

 _ce_

 _d_

 _u_

 _re_

I groaned and swiped my right arm over the desk, papers and books crashing to the floor.

My head throbbed as I shut my eyes as tightly as I could trying to erase everything I'd seen, but the letters and numbers floated in my mind like a haunting alphabet soup.

I'd just read the title of the article, and I was already breathing heavily and feeling the ends of my hair curling as I began to sweat. I exerted all of my energy just to try and read and make sense of the most simple words on the page, but I couldn't.

Then, I couldn't remember trying to read it at all. I could've read my own name and I wouldn't have retained it.

I had to get back to work within the week. I _wanted_ to get back to work, but if I couldn't read…

I just wanted to not be so _useless_.

My fingers clenched into a fist and I felt my bones start to rattle I was shaking so much.

Doctors told me just how much progress I was making, and everyone around me seemed to congratulate me for accomplishing the stupidest things. I didn't see how I was supposed to be happy about having to learn how to twist a door knob again. I had forgotten nearly everything before it started coming back, but the thing that hit me the hardest - even beyond physical struggles - was the fact I had to learn language _again_.

It was no secret how much I'd struggled with English, and sometimes even _before_ the accident I found myself taking just a little longer searching for the right word to say what I meant.

Now though, it took every ounce of mental energy to respond to simple questions.

I opened my eyes ever so slowly, ducking against the lamp on my desk. The light hurt my eyes, and I shied away from it as I reached to try and turn it off.

My fingers fumbled with the lamp and I clenched my jaw, frustrated with my lack of motor skills.

I couldn't even click the damn lamp off.

I clumsily continued to try and turn the tiny knob until I knocked it into the floor with a shatter.

Then, the room was filled with darkness and I exhaled in relief.

"What's wrong?!" Susanna flipped on the lights and without thinking I snapped my eyes shut and ducked my head down to my right hand.

It felt like someone was hitting the left side of my head with a hammer and I gasped against the throbbing in my brain.

"Turn off the lights." I begged, breathing heavily.

"All right?" Susanna complied, but there was concerned questioning in her voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I mumbled, opening my eyes slowly after I could sense the darkness.

I turned in my chair to now look out the window where the darkness was staring fall on the city.

Rosalie had been gone for over 4 hours.

I couldn't help but worry about her, and I hadn't even known where she'd gone.

"Okay…" Susanna said, noticing I was fixated as she cleaned up the shattered lamp. "You know your wife's told you to call us if you need anything, right?

I just nodded ever so slightly.

"You could've saved yourself a lamp, you know?" She went on trying a little nervous laugh. "I would've turned it off for you."

I didn't say anything. I just sat there, staring out the window and imagining flying right out of it. I imagined sprouting wings and never needing my faulty legs ever again.

The doctors said it wasn't even my legs that were the problem; it was the way my brain had disconnected from them. I didn't understand. I could feel it all. I just couldn't tell my feet what to do. I looked down at my knees now, thinking so hard I thought my brain would explode about just extending my right foot, but… there was no luck.

I hadn't moved a centimeter.

Susanna took a deep inhale as she noticed the books and papers on the floor.

"I've been doing this a long time…Twenty years." Susanna said as she arranged the books and papers on the table behind me.

I didn't know what to say and I kept staring out the window, trying not to focus on anything in particular.

"The best advice I can give you is… just give yourself time." Susanna said.

I clenched my jaw.

Of course.

"There was a girl I worked for from the time she was 24 to 34…" Susanna started.

I'd already heard so many 'inspiring' stories of triumph over the odds or how many awful stories about people that would never be the same so I should consider myself _lucky_.

I didn't.

"And in 10 years, just taking it a little at the time, she's perfectly fine now!" Susanna finished her story and I exhaled. "Maybe even better."

"That's great." I said, the words sour in my mouth as I tried to tune out the ringing in my ears that had just become agonizingly difficult to ignore.

But, in a way it was better to focus on tuning out the ringing in my ears than the fact that in ten years, I'd be 45…

My life was happening _right now_ and I couldn't miss it. I couldn't.

The driver of the car I was in, Frank, had walked away with whiplash and a broken wrist. I was glad it hadn't been worse. I couldn't have begun to think about the guilt of having him be hurt. I knew his wife and his kids.

He had a life too…

But, the man that hit us didn't. He was a rapist and certifiably insane and shouldn't have been driving in the first place. He didn't even have a license and he ran from the scene.

I kept thinking about the justice of it all…

I had gotten hit by someone I would've prosecuted and someone I would've ridded the greater society of for his crimes, but now… he'd been out of prison for that for 20 years.

I was following the rules. I was doing everything right.

Now, Rosalie was dealing with things _I_ should've been dealing with, and things I didn't _want_ her to have to deal with. She'd gone to court and she'd appeared before a judge and the man driving that car. She'd had to sit there knowing that he'd gotten out of prison for raping three women, and that in just a few months her own attacker would be able to get out of prison and live a perfectly normal life too…

Because of the messed up society we live in though, everyone treated her like a child and never took her seriously. Everyone imagined she was too young and too pretty to know what she was talking about.

Carlisle stepped up and helped her though and ultimately, the guy that hit me on accident was serving hard time for a longer sentence than the man that assaulted Rosalie on purpose.

No doubt, Rosalie also noticed his prison sentence for hitting me was even longer than the one he'd gotten for raping three women while he was in college.

That fact alone made me sick, and I imagined it weighed pretty heavily on Rosalie too.

She shouldn't have had to be there. She shouldn't have had to testify.

I hadn't realized Susanna had left the room until the ringing in my ears hd subsided and I found myself in total silence.

Relief swelled within me and I sighed, looking out the window and imagining where Rosalie was.

I didn't have to wonder for long though as I heard the light jingling of her keys and the front door shut behind her.

Warmth seemed to flood the room.

I waited for her, filled with anticipation, but unable to shake the dark sadness that weighed me down like chains everywhere now.

A few moments passed before I heard the click of her high heels.

I couldn't help but feel a little tug on the corner of my mouth as they got closer and my spirits lifted.

She didn't say anything as she entered the room, and I heard the door close and lock behind her.

The darkness increased and before I could even turn around to find her, she snaked her arms around my shoulders from behind.

I closed my eyes.

"Hey angel." I said, wondering about her silence.

Then, she kissed my neck, and I realized the sultriness of her arms around me.

I knew what she was intending immediately.

I swallowed nervously.

"Where've you been?" I asked, breathless as she traced her fingers over my chest and down toward my belt.

She still didn't respond, but she turned my chair to face her.

By the light of the moon from the window, I could see her shape and my stomach dropped.

She stood in front of me in her nicest black lace lingerie. I'd bought it for her in Italy.

"Rosalie…" I took a deep breath.

My wife was _gorgeous_. I wanted her more than words could express, and naturally, my mind became a messed up tangle.

I saw her dazzling smile light up the darkness, and then she noticed the sling on my arm.

"What happened?" She asked, wild concern flooding her tone and her smile disappeared.

"I fell at the doctor. It's not a big deal." I said, and reached out my free hand for her.

"When? Who do I need to fire?" She went on, her voice sharp, but as my hand found her hip she seemed to soften.

"You can't fire your brother." I said in a joking tone, trying to lighten her up.

"Oh my God." Rosalie covered her face, sighing exasperatedly.

I traced my thumb in a circle around her hip bone and ultimately she decided that she had come in here on a mission I was happy to aid her in.

She dropped her hands from her face slowly, seeming to regain the confidence about what she'd come in here to do.

And, that was me.

I smiled as she exhaled, giving up her anger and starting on the buttons of my shirt as she pressed her lips to mine.

It had been _obscenely_ _too long_.

She still didn't say anything, but she sat back on my desk, and took my hand on her hip to her inner thigh where the latch of her stockings were.

My heart pounded in my chest as she took my fingers to brush down her perfect, mile-long leg, the thigh high stockings exposing her bare skin now.

She climbed into my lap, and even though the mechanics of it were awkward, and the way her legs had to position over the chair took a second to figure out, she was confident and hotter than hell.

I wanted her so badly I could barely stand it.

But, there was something wrong.

Undoubtedly, she knew it too because she paused for a second and ducked to kiss my neck.

Something was still _wrong._

She dove her hands to my belt.

My stomach dropped as she undid my pants.

I panicked. This wasn't happening.

"Rosalie, stop." I hated to say, my voice tortured.

I couldn't see her face; it was too dark.

"It's okay." She blindly assured me.

She rocked her hips backward so her hand could dive past my waistband.

"Rose…" I tried to grab her hand with my right arm, but I ended up just swatting her away.

"It's fine… It might just…" She started, and pulled back to look at me.

Her face was dark, but I could see the defeated look in her eye as she climbed off of my lap and it killed me.

"I could…" She mumbled, getting on her knees in front of me.

"No…" I sighed, though in my mind nothing in this world sounded better right about now.

I had never felt so incompetent in my life.

"Just let me…" She insisted, reaching for my pants again.

What kind of man?…

"I _can't._ " I mumbled, never more filled with shame than I was in this moment.

"I'll try to…" She pulled her hair over her shoulder, but I saw a look in her eye that made me want to die.

"Rosalie, I _can't_." I told her again a little more convincingly.

I was so full of meds I couldn't even please my wife. I felt my hands shaking in anger and frustration, and I couldn't process the shame so it started to make my eyes burn.

"O-okay." She stayed on her knees, but dropped her hands so we were disconnected now.

She sat back on her feet, and retreated into the darkness of my shadow over her. I wished I could see her face - but I knew it would just break my heart further than it already was.

Emotion had become hard to experience healthily these past few months and now, emotions for me seemed to be either nonexistent or uncontrollably extreme.

My head pounded and I brought my right hand to the side of my head taking a deep inhale.

That's when it all came rushing in like a boiling pot that had just run over.

"I'm sorry." I said through gritted teeth.

Rosalie didn't say anything, she just got up and started redoing the buttons on my shirt for me.

She wouldn't meet my eyes.

"It's not your fault." Rosalie said in a calm, soothing tone, but I heard that edge in her voice and it made my stomach drop.

She was wrong. It was _all_ my fault.

I wanted nothing more in this moment to throw my arms around her.

But, I couldn't even do that, so I looked away.

"Emmett… We'll talk to the doctor Friday. It's _okay_." Rosalie's voice was a little more powerful now, but I still couldn't believe her words.

It wasn't okay.

"Do you hear me?" She asked, finishing with my clothes so she put her hands on my face. "It's okay."

I looked up into her eyes, glistening in the moonlight and I nodded.

"What's three months for another three days?" Rosalie tried to lighten the mood and tucked some hair behind my ear.

It had no luck to lighten the mood on my end. I took a deep breath.

Three months… _God_.

The timeline wasn't lost on me, and I couldn't tell her all that we'd lost.

I couldn't tell her…

If I hadn't been in that accident, I'd have an adopted little girl in my arms and Rosalie would be a mother like her heart desired more than anything.

We would've had Christmas with a daughter instead of in a hospital. We would've rung in the New Year staying in and crashing at 9 because the baby would keep us up all day and night instead of the insomnia from a brain injury. We would've been in a court room legally adopting our little girl instead of fighting with a rapist on a hit and run.

We would've been able to start our family instead of… _all this_.

Once again, we were _so_ … _close_ …

We were so close…

Was this the universe's way of telling Rosalie and I we weren't meant to have kids? Every time we were almost there, tragedy struck.

It wasn't fair.

No child should be brought into a world where I can't do anything. I can't be the man I want to be. I can't be the father I want to be.

What if I could never be myself again?

What if this was it? What if it could never get better than this? What if this was the new normal?

What if, after all this time of running, I end up exactly like my father...

Trapped in a broken brain...

I couldn't understand.

I couldn't process.

I couldn't bring myself to tell her, but I tried.

Vera had emphasized just how important it was that Rosalie and I be honest with each other in this coming future. In my recovery, we had to be honest with each other.

"I have to tell you something." We both seemed to say at the same time.

But, as soon as we looked into each others' eyes tears broke from behind our gazes like a bursting dam and we cried and cried and cried.


	54. Leave the War With Me

_I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I've been traveling a lot, and havent had the best wifi situation. Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

Here's a chapter in Rosalie's POV.

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _Notes on future chapters: A flashback chapter is most likely next... I've been writing a little ahead of myself so I need to fill in the gaps. I love hearing your ideas. **Is there anything you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

* * *

 ** _Leave the War With Me - London Grammar_**

 _Ooh, better leave that war with me_

 _Fair trials, they don't exist my friend_  
 _Only a circus in my mind_  
 _Judgement's gone and there's no love again_  
 _But it's my way till the end of time_

 _Where do we go?_  
 _And I'm leaning towards_

 _Losing my mind and I'm feeling no more_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _The Day We Got Married_

"Rosalie, you know you don't have to do this…" My father said, his eyes full of tears he was struggling to hold back.

I furrowed my brow, not wanting to process what he was saying to me.

"I want to, Daddy." I murmured, but my voice was drowned out by the organ as it began to play the wedding march.

He wouldn't have heard me or believed me anyway.

My heart dropped to my knees as the doors to the sanctuary opened. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

I was getting married today.

I was getting married _right now_.

My eyes took in everything at once, but I was looking only for one thing.

Then, serenity absolutely overwhelmed me as I found his eyes.

I wanted to run down the rest of the aisle to him.

He'd never looked more handsome standing there waiting for me - those darling dimples evident on his face as a frame for his electric smile.

He took a deep breath at the sight of me, and I'd never felt anything heavier than the weight of the significance in his eyes. I'd never felt more loved or valued, and when I was close enough I could just fall into Emmett's arms and I thought I just might.

The way he looked at me made me feel more beautiful and more important than I'd ever felt.

I barely noticed my father lifting my veil to kiss my cheek because my eyes never left Emmett's.

My heart was too happy to notice that when Emmett's eyes left mine to find my father's and he extended his hand, my father didn't shake it.

Instead, my father denied him and just exhaled, turning on his heel. I also didn't notice the whispers behind us or Emmett's sister's hellish glare.

Emmett's eyes found mine again though, and he was unshaken. I wanted to reach out for him. I couldn't stand it anymore.

"You look more than beautiful." Emmett said as Father Carmine said the introductory words.

Emmett's velvety voice had a special way of making me feel weak at the knees

"Thank you." I felt a scarlet blush tint my cheeks.

I was even too blissful to notice that my mother hadn't shown up.

Luckily we paid enough attention to Father Carmine's words to know when to do the sign of the cross, but my head was spinning.

As we sat together, Emmett took my hand through opening prayer and Liturgy of the Word even though it wasn't customary, and I wondered if he could tell how much I was trembling.

"I want to marry you, Rosalie Hale." Emmett assured me in a voice so quiet I could barely hear it.

His words were just for me, and I allowed myself a glance his way during the reading of Corinthians.

Sincerity flooded his chocolate brown eyes and I nodded ever so slightly with a private smile just for him.

The organ came to life again and the cantor began the alleluias. Emmett and I stood now, and I put my trembling hand back on my bouquet.

"I love you." Emmett told me, shooting me a private glance as the rest of the congregation sang their alleluias and the Holy Gospel was read.

"I love you too." I exhaled.

His words echoed in my brain until I heard our names from Father Carmine.

"Emmett Peter McCarty and Rosalie Lillian Hale," Father Carmine began.

Our names called in sequence made me smile, and I couldn't hide it as I looked over at Emmett.

His profile was enough to make butterflies flutter in my stomach and I couldn't help but notice that he was vibrating with energy. I felt it coming off of him in waves.

"Have you come here without reservation to enter into marriage without coercion, freely, and wholeheartedly?" Father Carmine went on, his eyes darting between us.

I was so blissful I couldn't even register the uncertainty in his voice in this traditional Catholic question before the celebration of Matrimony.

"We have," Emmett said confidently.

"Yes, we have." I smiled, my voice sounding small even though I was more confident in this answer than I'd ever been about anything.

"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?" There was still skepticism in Father Carmine's eyes, but I didn't notice it.

"Yes," I said a bit more audibly this time, but Emmett's voice still was of course more powerful than my own.

Emmett took my hand then, and even though I knew it wasn't traditionally accepted, I curled into his side, unable to be away from him much longer.

Emmett dropped my hand to put his arm around me then, and I felt his eyes heavy on me.

Father Carmine took a deep breath.

"Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?" He asked us the final question of Consent before we could move into Matrimony.

I gripped him tighter, unable to let go of what I'd just seen.

 _"Yes."_ I said confidently.

As I looked up into Emmett's eyes, I saw us gray-haired and surrounded by our grandchildren. It was the clearest vision I'd ever had, and I had to blink back the tears of overwhelming shock. It was so… _real_. We'd do everything on earth together. He'd be my best friend, and my dearest companion. He'd be my husband, and the father of my children.

He'd take care of me, and I of him.

What I didn't see though was _all_ that really waited for us in the near future - _loss_.

* * *

 _Present, A Week Later_

"Emmett, are you sure you're feeling up to this?" Vera asked.

He sighed, sinking back into the couch beside me in a relaxed, casual way.

"Sure." He responded flippantly, but I could see pain in his eyes.

I reveled in the sound of his voice because there were so many moments in the past three months that made me think I'd never hear it again. However, his voice held an unexplainable heaviness to it that always made me sad.

That car accident was supposed to kill him three months ago, but thank God he fought his way out of death's reach. Each day since had been a new fight though, and it wasn't close to over. Of course, he had suffered some major setbacks, but he was strong.

He was strong…

A week ago, we'd both said we had something to tell each other…

My stomach turned at the remembrance.

But, we'd never gotten around to it. We just cried and cried and cried, finally letting out a lot of the emotion, grief, and frustration these past few months had brought us.

He didn't push me to ask what I was going to tell him, and for that I was very thankful…

But, I had to tell him…

I put my hand on his thigh and he looked over at me, his chocolate eyes melting my soul.

I had to look away though, and I shivered.

He hadn't asked me what I was going to say that day, and so I hadn't asked him either.

But, I was curious.

"Your doctor changed your medication three days ago." Vera noted. "Anything noteworthy to report yet?"

Emmett shrugged.

"No, but I always hope I'll have the chance to find out." A glimmer of Emmett's humor began to show, and for a fleeting moment he smirked.

I blushed, thrilled to see parts of his personality returning little by little.

"We're all adults, so… I'm guessing you mean… you aren't able to… _respond_ to your wife on your medication." Vera clarified though she didn't have to.

Emmett made a face, full of disgust.

He still wore a displeased grimace, keeping his eyes down.

I kept my eyes away from him too.

A week ago, something had changed within him and I saw shame and failure in his eyes like I'd never seen it. I blamed myself a little, thinking I should've taken into account how medication would affect him… _sexually._ I should have made sure _before_ I climbed on top of him and presented him with a situation that embarrassed him so much.

I just didn't imagine…

I sighed, honestly so full of an aching and unquenchable desire for sex that I couldn't even think about that.

It had been three months…

The doctors were trying some different things and adjusting some doses, but there was no immediate guarantee.

"I may as well still be in that coma." He mumbled.

"Don't say that!" I corrected him sharply, finding his eyes again.

Emmett read the intensity with which I said those words, knowing by just looking into my eyes I couldn't even bear the thought of it.

He cleared his throat and looked away, then a full silence rose between us.

"Emmett, I know you're feeling…." Vera began.

"You don't know what I'm feeling." He cut her off, and something about his tone was harsh.

Vera waited and took a deep breath. I didn't imagine she was making much headway with him in his sessions.

" _No one_ knows." Emmett said with fire in his eyes.

Vera decided to change direction now and she looked at me.

"We've talked a little about your visit to Miami to see Pilar, but is there anything you want to tell Emmett about it?"

I swallowed, feeling intimidated by his waiting eyes on me.

I could see he was still believing himself to be isolated and it made me think about how far away he still was, even sitting here right next to me.

"Her children are beautiful. Her husband loves her like he should." I murmured, but I knew this would be something Emmett would want to know. "She's very happy."

Emmett softened at that information. The corners of Emmett's mouth turned up ever so slightly, revealing his darling dimples.

"That's good." He responded simply.

"I know you'd want to know that." I smiled a little.

Then, his fingers found mine. I'd noticed his hands had stopped shaking since his medication changed.

This was progress. But, I didn't want to get my hopes up.

"Why did you go to Miami?" Emmett asked, his eyes dark like he already knew part of the answer. "I know that wasn't why."

We hadn't talked about what he'd done since when I came back on Christmas Eve. We didn't feel the need to talk about it, but I had a sinking feeling that Vera was going to _make_ us talk about it.

"I thought she'd know what to do to help you." I responded easily.

"She's no doctor." Emmett said, seeming to push further into my answer.

I took a deep breath.

"I just… I don't know much about…" I felt my cheeks flushing with frustration and irrational jealousy as I tripped over my words. "- What's between you both, but… but I do know she reminds you of home and she reminds you of… _yourself_ \- the parts of yourself I'll never know."

"Rosalie…" Emmett protested, not seeming to like me talking about any of the distance between us.

If we didn't discuss it, it didn't exist…

But, that was far from accurate.

"It's true." I exhaled.

His eyes darted over my face, searching.

"I thought that… that I'd lost you forever." I could barely say the words aloud. "The doctors said that anything could be the trigger to getting your memories back, so I tried _everything_ and it didn't work. I guess I thought that if Pilar came to New York it'd remind you of something from your home or from your life and make you realize who you were…"

"I'm so sorry." He said with the most heavy sincerity.

I swallowed.

"I know." I nodded. "I just didn't… I didn't know who you were. I looked into your eyes and… and _you weren't there_."

It made it easier to acknowledge that it wasn't him. He hadn't done that. He wouldn't. He couldn't.

"Rose…" He said, torture in his eyes.

But, he was _there_ in his gaze, and for that I would always rejoice.

"I didn't know what parts of you were left, Em." I said, my voice starting to shake as tears pushed at my eyes. "They'd… They'd…"

At this, tears began to stream down my cheeks and I furiously wiped them away, but it was no use.

He brought his free hand to wipe tears off my cheek and I closed my eyes, sighing into his touch.

"They'd hacked into your head so many times…" I covered my face with my hands, and before too long, I felt his hand on my thigh in comfort. "I was afraid those doctors were taking pieces of you out every single time. That's what it seemed like anyway."

"Rosalie…" He started, reaching out so I ultimately curled into his side.

"I… I didn't want anyone to touch you." I went on, my heart being squeezed in my chest so I couldn't breathe. "I was afraid there wasn't going to be any of you left when they were done."

Emmett didn't know what to say, but I buried closer into him.I avoided his eyes.

"And when you _hit_ me, I thought… that was the farthest thing from the man I married. It was the farthest from _you_. I worried that I'd miss my last chance to salvage some of you if I didn't get Pilar to at least remind you of… of _something_."

I felt one of Emmett's arms around me as I buried my head into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Rosalie. I'm so sorry." I heard him say as softly as he could muster.

He kissed my forehead and I closed my eyes.

"Have you forgiven Emmett?" Vera asked me.

"Of course." I snapped my eyes open.

It was an easy thing to say, so I knew I meant it.

"Have you forgiven _yourself_?" Vera asked him.

"No." Emmett said plainly, but with as much self-loathing as one person can possess.

My eyes darted down.

"Do you think you can?" Vera asked again.

"We've talked about this…" Emmett was referring to all of his private sessions with Vera.

Vera remained silent.

"You should." I said finally, my eyes finding his.

There was intensity I found there that made me shiver.

"Elizabeth and I talked the day I came back…" I began.

My voice was quiet, but this was something Emmett needed to hear.

He looked at me with questions in his eyes.

"What Edward's father did to him, what your father did to you, and… and what you did to me. You would _never_ choose that. Your father wouldn't have either. Because… Because being sick like that completely takes away choice. Em, you didn't choose that. There was nothing in you that chose that. Just like there was nothing in your father or Edward's father that chose what they did either."

Emmett was silent, but I saw so much flash over his expression. He couldn't hide it from me.

I was careful of his healing scars, but I brushed my fingers through his hair like I used to when I was trying to tell him something important and I needed him to focus.

He just nodded, looking youthful in his openness.

"That's incredible insight from Elizabeth. What do you think, Emmett?" Vera asked him as my heart raced out of my chest.

He swallowed.

"I… I need to process." He said honestly.

"Understandable." Vera nodded.

Emmett looked over at me.

"Regardless, I'm so sorry, Rosalie." He said with deepness in his brown eyes that made me want to dive into them to comfort the torture in his soul.

"I know." I said with as much conviction as I could possess. "But, Em listen… I have to tell you something."

My heart began to race out of my chest. My stomach turned and I tried to keep his eyes, and it would've been hard if it weren't for how strongly his gaze tethered mine.

"What is it?" He sensed my reticence and tension rose in the air.

My eyes darted to Vera and she nodded to me in encouragement.

I took a deep breath.

"When I got to Miami and Pilar told me she wasn't going to come to New York, I didn't know what I was going to do…" I started, my voice shaking. "I'd… I'd tried everything."

Emmett waited, but as if he knew what I was going to say, his eyes went dark.

"So… So when your doctors called…" I thought I was going to pass out.

"You didn't have a choice, Em. You didn't do what you did to me because of a choice, but what I did to you…" Tears started to stream down my face and I imagined that the rest of the words wouldn't come out unless I threw them up.

I felt him take a deep breath, his eyes darting over my face as he searched desperately for the words I didn't know how to say.

"I… I've made so many decisions for you… Decisions I didn't know how to make…" I wiped the tears from my cheeks, but they were coming again faster than I could wipe them.

"Before that last surgery, you were stable, and they told me you would recover… But… But I wasn't satisfied." I felt disgust rise like bile in my throat at what I'd done. "It wasn't _you_."

"When I was in Miami, I told them I didn't care what they had to do. I didn't care what had to be sacrificed… I just wanted you back." Now as he sat across from me and I stared into the eyes that were his own I didn't know if I could regret it.

"So… So they went into your head one more time, and I knew what it would cost." I shivered, feeling like Dr. Frankenstein. "But I told them to do it anyway…"

I felt him stiffen.

For the first time I would admit what I'd bargained with to have him back.

I was terrified.

"It's okay." Emmett said, but I heard the strain in his voice and I felt tension in his fingers though he was trying to comfort me with his touch.

"It's okay…" He repeated himself to emphasize this not only to me, but to himself.

"Emmett… I…." I covered my face with my hands.

"Whatever it is, it's okay." Emmett said, but his voice was weak.

My stomach dropped and I felt unending shame.

"The doctors told me there was… a _risk_ …" I swallowed.

"A _chance_ you'd… you'd never walk again if I had them do that surgery…" I swallowed, my heart racing in my chest.

I'd never seen the emotion I saw in Emmett's eyes that I saw in this moment and it seemed impossible to decode.

"You did what you had to do, Rose." Emmett swallowed, keeping his eyes down and away from me.

"Emmett…" I could feel him getting further from me.

"You know you did the right thing." He said, but his voice was ghostly and expressionless.

He gave me his gaze back, and I could see the discouragement in his eyes.

But, in that moment I just interpreted it as disappointment.

 _In me._


	55. Benediction

_Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

Here's another chapter in Rosalie's POV.

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _Notes on future chapters: A flashback chapter is COMING... I've been writing a little ahead of myself so I need to fill in the gaps... I love hearing your ideas! I really love the fashion show idea and I think it'd be a fun break from all this SADNESS. Happy times have to come soon though, right?_

 _So, I've started writing some of a fashion show that Emmett comes to when he and Rosalie first get married woooo. It's gonna be a fun one._

 _ **Is there anything else you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

* * *

 ** _Benediction - Luke Sital-Singh_**

 _Is it war if you fight it?_  
 _Is it love when you don't?_  
 _There is more when you let go_  
 _Of the fear that you can't_

 _As we burn in the fire_  
 _Slowly learning to breathe_  
 _Just keep calm in the falling_  
 _Always looking for an underneath_

 _Imagine it's a warning sign_  
 _I don't wanna lose more time_  
 _Darling, don't you close your eyes_  
 _Keep listening - are you listening?_

 _I'm sorry we don't have forever_  
 _Ooh ooh ooh ooh but come die with me_

* * *

 **Rosalie: Heart-Shaped Box**

 _Valentine's Day; A Week Later_

I closed my eyes trying to revel in the memory of the sound - the most beautiful swift percussion I'd ever heard. It was a sound of mythology and legend, but it was the most natural and comforting thing I'd ever heard.

It was a primal drumbeat that I recognized from the beginning of time, but the newness took my breath.

When I opened my eyes though I returned to the present and I was sitting across from my husband who kept his eyes down at his plate as we ate Valentine's Day dinner in a full silence.

It was like a first date between two teenagers, and we both didn't know how to begin conversation.

I wore a blush on my cheeks that he undoubtedly noticed because I noticed a new color in his cheeks too.

When I'd gotten home this afternoon, I kissed him as I always did, but as I turned to pull away, he pulled me closer and closer and closer.

To say it'd been too long was an understatement.

And though there were significant restrictions, we were Rosalie and Emmett and we could get creative.

We invented ways to please each other and lose ourselves in pleasure.

He looked up at me now though, and gave me a little smile like he'd been lost in thought as deeply as I'd been.

"I… was thinking about you." He said with a little smirk.

My stomach jumped and butterflies floated in the spaces.

"Oh yeah?" I bit my lip flirtatiously.

He nodded.

"If I haven't told you… You… look beautiful." He told me, and I saw in his deep brown eyes just how exhausted he was after the full day he'd had at physical therapy.

And… I hadn't exactly taken it easy on him when we got home.

I couldn't help myself.

His words were slow now so he'd have time to process them and say what he really meant. After his medication change, there'd been some victories, but this was one of the sacrifices.

It took just a little longer for him to say what he wanted to say when he was really tired. Most of the time though, he was speaking "Spanglish" anyways. He always backtracked and tried to explain or translate himself, and he'd stumble over his words every now and again. I tried to allow him to know I understood him no matter what, but he insisted on trying to figure out his words.

I knew that language was something he was very... _touchy_ about.

Which is why I'd hired a private speech therapist, and he was working with him once a week after he worked with someone else to help him remember how to read.

Other than walking, reading seemed to be his next big goal. He wanted to get back to work, but it was becoming more and more apparent how much of an obstacle reading comprehension was for him. He tried not to let me know just how bad it was, but I noticed him struggling and it broke my heart.

I wouldn't let my mind go to a place where I thought he'd never really be able to go back to work.

Now I smiled though, pausing for long enough before I responded like they'd told me to.

"Thank you." I said to him softly.

Even though I found personal absolution in his gaze now, I couldn't help but think about the discouragement I'd seen in his eyes not even a week ago.

When I'd finally told him what the doctors had said about the chances of him walking, he initially took it with tragedy - as anyone rational would - but there were still some sparks of hope in his big brown eyes, and he worked hard in all his physical therapy visits to make sure he proved them wrong.

He wanted to walk again.

His spirit couldn't be squashed, and for that I admired and loved him even more.

But, it also made me sad. What if his hope was misplaced?… Of course, we both believed in miracles, but after all the tragedy we'd been through… I couldn't help but think about how it would crush him if… if this miracle didn't happen…

I knew I tried not to hope...

 _It was just easier that way._

He tried to have me understand that I did the right thing by having them go ahead with the surgery even with the risks, but I was still insecure.

I hoped he didn't resent me. I hoped he understood even though I didn't fully expect him to. I mean… This would potentially affect him forever… How could _anyone_ be understanding about that?

But, because he was Emmett and because I'm Rosalie, he understood. He knew why I made the decision I did and he tried to get me to believe him when he said he would've done the same thing.

I didn't make the decision lightly regardless of if it'd been right or wrong, and this was something he knew confidently.

In the beginning of our marriage, we'd talked briefly about what medical decisions we'd wanted made if we couldn't make them for ourselves, but we never thought we'd have to make _this one_.

Looking into his eyes in this moment made me _know_ without a doubt though that I'd made the right decision though.

He was here. He was right _here_ with me.

This was the person I'd fallen in love with and the person I trusted more than anything in this world. After all we'd been through, and all the obstacles we were still yet to face, we were here together.

This was probably the most unorthodox Valentine's Day we'd ever spent together, but I tried to make it as normal as possible.

We were finally _alone._

After living with five extra people in our house since he'd been home, it was a refreshing change to be sitting alone in our dining room that I'd transformed with candles and decorations to make us believe we were spending it in Florence, Italy as we'd initially planned.

We'd transferred the trip we'd planned to gift to his parents for their anniversary and I hoped this would be a peace offering to Carmen from me. She and Peter had been surprised and excited of course, and Carmen even smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

Even though Emmett and I weren't in Italy drinking Chianti and indulging in the romance of the Italian countryside, in this moment in our apartment, I didn't think I could love him more.

If I forgot all that had transpired and looked into his eyes just like this, I could see more romance here than on an Italian vacation.

I wore this fitted black Chanel dress I knew he loved with the Louboutin's he'd gotten me for our first Valentine's Day together.

It was a special occasion, and I took a deep breath as I looked up into his eyes and took his hand.

He'd tied his own tie tonight and I could see even this small victory pleased him, gaining more and more control over his fine motor skills with each passing day.

He was devastatingly handsome of course, and even as much as he'd physically changed in the past few months, I saw the scrappy young lawyer I'd fallen in love with.

His brown eyes made me weak at the knees.

I was nervous and I didn't know how to begin.

"Emmett… I…" I started, but he spoke at the same time.

"Rosalie… I love you. You know that?" He asked me and I nodded.

There was a boyish nervousness in his eyes, and I could see he didn't know he'd interrupted me.

I didn't mind. I didn't know how to start anyway.

"I do know that." I smiled. "You always make sure of it."

His dimples showed, and even though his eyes were tired, they sparkled.

I thought about trying again, but then he spoke before I could gain the confidence.

"I… have something for you." He started, and he reached into his jacket pocket.

His hand lingered in his pocket and his eyes found mine again.

"It's… a little late." He said with a little frown. "And, I've been thinking about it for a while."

"What is it?" I asked, playing along with the suspense and denying the fact we'd lost these past three months of our lives and that's what had thrown a wrench into whatever plans he'd had.

"Give… me your hand." He requested with a look in his eye that I recognized from days long gone.

It made my heart race and I did what I was told, extending my right hand to him palm up.

"The… other one." He grinned now, mischief in his eyes as he thought about whatever surprise he had up his sleeve.

I bit my lip, unable to hide my own smile as I placed my hand in his. He turned my hand over so my palm was to the floor and I felt a smile start on my face.

It reminded me.

His eyes met mine and I thought I would just float away. I was so lightheaded.

"R…Rosalie Hale…." Emmett started, and even though his voice was tired and a little hoarse, it still held so much love and significance that it made me shiver.

"I love you more with… each p-passing day… and, I… couldn't have braved… this hell without you." He said, his brown eyes locked on me.

"S-someday soon we'll… be able to…. be happy again, and… I… want to hope for that someday…. with you." Emmett tucked my hair behind my ear and I took a deep breath.

My inhale caught in my throat as he pulled a little box from his jacket pocket.

"Rosalie Hale… my wife, the love of my life and the light of my days…" He started and I tried not to tremble so much so he could keep a hold on my hand as he positioned the most gorgeous diamond band I'd ever seen over my finger.

I swore my left hand got heavier than it already was.

"Emmett!" I exclaimed, my eyes widening in absolute shock.

"L-let's get married… again. What do you… say?" He smiled to me. "Let's… start over…"

I nodded, a beaming smile spreading over my face in response to the absolute wonder of this moment.

"Yes! Let's get married again!" I grinned, unable to hide my joy and a little giggle passed through my lips.

Emmett leaned forward and kissed me passionately. His lips were sweet as cinnamon.

I could only describe this feeling as ecstasy.

"The day I… The day of the accident… I was going to… ask you to marry me again…" Emmett said, but there was a darkness in his eyes that I didn't understand where it came from.

Within moments though, it was hidden again, and I wondered if I'd imagined it.

"I want you to have the wedding you… should've had then. I want you to be adored and worshipped… by a hundred thousand… people… Hell, we could… televise it for all I care. You… should have a dress made especially… for you. You… should have… flowers… and…"

"Hey, listen to me…" I said taking his face in my hands. "All I ever wanted was you. _That's_ why we got married."

He looked at me with the kind of look that made me have to kiss him. I couldn't help it.

"But, I would love to have a wedding." I grinned against his lips, feeling giddy.

He kissed me back with happy desperation, and I climbed into his lap because I couldn't stand not being closer to him.

"I love you." I smiled between kissed.

"Even… even with everything that's… changed. That hasn't." He said, with intensity in his eyes that made me shiver as he pulled away only centimeters between us. "That will _never_ change."

I smiled, letting him kiss me again and not knowing if I could ever let him go.

"I'm… gonna walk in six months and… we can plan something within the… year." He said with unmatched determination. "I want you to have… whatever you… want. Make it the biggest… wedding the world's…. ever seen. Whatever… you want… You should have it."

I realized what he was doing then, and my heart dropped.

He was giving himself a timeline and trying to force himself into getting better. He was giving himself checkpoints and goals, and if he spoke them out loud, they would happen.

I understood, but I worried.

I worried incessantly.

"Emmett, I…" I started once more before he kissed me again.

"There's one more thing though…" He took a deep breath, seeming to fixate. "And… if I don't… say it now… I won't…"

The darkness in his eyes returned and I realized how much he'd been suppressing these past few months as darkness flooded the room.

It was so heavy it felt like my heart was going to be crushed.

"I… I was… on my way to meet someone." He said. "It wasn't a client like I'd… told you."

I swallowed not knowing where he was going with this.

"I… I lied to you." He started, then shame flooded his face.

I was terrified for what was going to come out of his mouth next and my eyes widened in response.

"Right before we went to Tennessee… I got… a call…" He sighed. "It's… why… I was pushing you so hard… to talk to Vera."

"I wanted… you to be… _better._ " His face went pale, and the last time I'd seen this look on his face was the day I left for Paris, but then I was too numb to acknowledge it. "I _needed_ you to be… better."

Now, it absolutely ripped my soul out.

"A little girl was… born in October in Virginia…" He said, and this information seemed incredibly heavy to him.

"Her mom was… a fourteen year old drug addict… Her dad was… who knows. But, they weren't going to keep her… So, someone from the… adoption agency had shown them our file…"

I didn't want to try and fill in the blanks. It was too much.

"A social worker Alice and Jasper knew… called me and asked me to meet her…" Emmett swallowed. "They liked us… Rose, they… _liked_ us…"

"What?" I gasped, my hands coming to my mouth.

I couldn't help but fill in the blanks now.

We'd been on the list for a _year_ ….

But, we'd only gotten one call, and when we'd done the interview, the mother of the child to be adopted made a series of comments about how I didn't seem like the 'mother-type' then she tried to flirt with my husband.

Needless to say, we weren't chosen then, and that experience had left Emmett and I both incredibly scarred and hopeless again.

"I'd already done all the… red tape legal stuff…" Emmett said, keeping his eyes down. "After what happened… last time, I wanted to… make _sure_ before I subjected you… to that hope again… But, I _was_ … I was sure… I was sure this time. _I was sure._ "

He looked back up to me, his eyes full of sorrow and hurt.

"We were the… _only_ people they'd picked to interview…"

I closed my eyes. I couldn't look at him.

I could hear how heavily the thought weighed on him; that would've been our little girl.

"I was in that car… on the way to go sign the last papers before… they interviewed you and did a home study for us… That little girl… She would've…"

He stopped when he noticed the single tear that had escaped onto my cheek.

"Her name was Mary…" He began again, his voice tortured.

I opened my eyes now.

I saw that this seemed to resonate with him as an emphasis of the great tragedy of his accident. Being so close yet again to the child we so desperately desired was too much for him to handle, even compared to the rest of the tragedy he'd experienced.

"They said she had big blue eyes…. Like you." He said reaching out for me.

"Emmett…" I took a deep breath, letting my eyes search his face.

As I saw the darkness in his eyes, I couldn't help but let my own sorrow creep in over the closeness of the fleeing dream of my own child yet again.

A hollow ache plagued my middle and I swallowed, looking down.

"Rose, I'm so sorry…" He stroked my cheek.

He had so much self loathing in his eyes and through the fog of my own grief on the subject I realized why.

"Em, no." I covered my face, exhaling. "No."

"If I hadn't… If I had just left a minute later, or taken the route Frank had suggested, or if I'd sat on the other side of the car or…"

"Emmett, stop it." I said intensely hoping he'd listen.

"But, we were so close…" He exhaled, dropping his forehead to my shoulder.

I turned so I could cradle his head, being careful of his scars as I held him close to me and I closed my eyes.

"I know…" I said, hating the horrible taste in my mouth.

I couldn't help but feel de ja vu.

We were always _so close_.

He felt like he'd failed me with this just like I thought I'd failed him with Colette.

"It isn't your fault." I breathed, knowing from my own experience that these words wouldn't stick for him.

He nodded, keeping his head down into my neck. I felt his breath on my skin, and I closed my eyes, still just thankful he was okay - for all intents and purposes at least.

"Do you think…" Emmett started, pulling back from me so he could look into my eyes. "Do you think we… aren't _meant to have children_?…"

His eyes were dark, and I could see the seriousness in his questioning. My soul felt strangled in my body and I crossed my arms over my abdomen, dropping my focus.

"I… I don't know."

"And now... Now, I can't imagine it..." He said. "I'm not... worth _anything_ like this..."

"Don't say that." I swallowed. "You're still you. You would be an _excellent_ father, Em."

Me saying this hit him harder than I'd anticipated.

I'd never seen the emotion I saw in his eyes before.

"No, I won't. Not like this." He said with the deepest torture in his tone.

"Emmett..." My heart skipped a beat.

"Not like this, Rosalie." He said and I noticed how glassy his eyes looked with the threat of tears.

He cleared his throat to fight them.

"I don't... I don't want to be my father, Rose..." He looked away from me, taking a deep breath.

"I know, Em. I know." I tried to soothe his worry, but I didn't understand why he was saying this. "You're not."

"I don't want... to be helpless." He breathed.

"You are _not_ helpless, Emmett." I tried to correct him, but I saw he wasn't changing his mind.

"I don't want my... kid to have to take care of me like I had to take care of my father. It isn't fair..."

"It's different." I tried to protest.

"I _have_ to get better." Emmett went on.

"You will." I said confidently, but it made my heart sore to have the promise in my voice.

"Because if I can't... I want you to leave me, and I want to die."

"Emmett, that's ridiculous." I panicked.

"I wouldn't want to have any children... Not with you... Not with anyone." Emmett's big brown eyes looked bottomless. "And that's something you will always want. That's something you should have."

"Emmett... _listen to me_." I closed my eyes, unable to fight the tears building up in my eyes, even as I gritted my teeth.

He _didn't_ listen though.

"I'm _worthless_ right now, Rosalie..." He

"You are _not_ worthless!" I argued passionately.

"I can't think about not getting better, Rosalie. I really can't." He took a deep breath.

"Then don't." I said, sounding like I was begging.

"Because if I do... That's... That's what I think about..." Emmett admitted.

I swallowed.

"I can't give you the one thing you want, Rosalie." His eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them, and the blackness of them made me shiver.

"Yes, you can -"

"Then, I don't _want_ to. Not like this..."


	56. That Other Girl

_I'M SORRY I TAKE FOREVER!_

 _Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

Here's a flashback chapter in Emmett's POV. This chapter has been on my mind for a while and it perfectly fit in with writing about Emmett's first experience at a fashion show after getting married to Rosalie

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _I've been writing a little ahead of myself so I need to fill in the gaps... I love hearing your ideas!_

 _ **Is there anything else you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

 _ **Notes on Future Chapters: Next is a chapter half past and half present in Rosalie's POV. It's a big one that's why these have taken me a long time...**_

* * *

 _ **That Other Girl - Sevdaliza**_

 _He never knew what I was made of_  
 _Heat couldn't melt me_  
 _Cold couldn't waiver me_  
 _He never knew my form or shape_  
 _His heart couldn't melt me_  
 _Water couldn't leave me_  
 _Caught him standing with a stare_  
 _He took me all the way in his bed_  
 _Operating from another world_  
 _I want to be that other girl_

* * *

 **Emmett**

 _Five Years Ago; February_

Well, I'd officially been compared to Satan.

It wasn't the first time so it wasn't incredibly original, but it amused me all the same.

 _Saint Rosalie's No Match the Devil_ they'd said, recycling the same concept with different words on tabloid magazines, celebrity talk shows, late night skits, and celebrity news in what seemed like every country on the planet.

Rosalie had been blindsided on a late night talk show a few nights ago when the host started asking Rosalie some questions on live television that… _crossed a line_ to say the least. I'd been on a case, and if the situation hadn't been hard enough for Rosalie, that was also the very first night we had been away from each other since we'd gotten married.

The host started off asking her about married life and if she was enjoying it which was harmless enough.

But then things took a turn…

 _"Everyone's taken notice of how you've started dressing differently now that you're married to Emmett McCarty. People everywhere went crazy over your dress at the VOGUE Christmas Party." The talk-show host began._

 _"Ugh, yes Ralph Lauren is amazing." Rosalie clasped her hands together with a grin._

 _"Yes, it's a gorgeous dress and all but, Rosalie… It was strapless…" The host waved his hands around like it was monumentally immodest and unheard of. "You haven't worn anything strapless…. Ever."_

 _The audience laughed and Rosalie giggled in her perfect actress giggle that no one could tell was fake but me._

 _"I mean, I had to show off the diamonds I was wearing. That necklace is historic Cartier." Rosalie rationally defended herself. "I was so honored to wear that necklace for the evening."_

 _Then, a picture of she and I from the VOGUE Christmas Party came up on the screen behind them._

 _I rolled my eyes at the television because it wasn't a very becoming photograph. I had a drink turned up with one hand and my other on Rosalie's arm like I was pulling her. She was looking away and we looked entirely disconnected and I looked a little possessive._

 _What was really happening was Rosalie and I were leaving and Alice had called her name to say one last goodbye. I had my hand on her arm like that because I was joking with Alice that I was taking Rosalie back from her after they'd spent the evening whispering and telling each other secrets. I was really just finishing a drink to put on a waiting tray, not guzzling it down as the photograph suggested._

 _The photos printed by all the major publications that weren't gossip magazines were truer to form and I wondered why those hadn't been used._

 _This was supposed to be publicity for her latest collaboration with a big makeup brand. I tried to remember and keep it all straight, but I had no idea._

 _I didn't want her on this show anymore if this was how they were going to treat her._

 _"So will we be seeing any diamond campaigns like your one for Cartier this time last year?"_

 _The crowd whistled and Rosalie tucked her long straight blonde hair behind her ear._

 _"I don't know…" Rosalie said calmly, trailing off._

 _She'd been asked, but she'd said no. They'd let her borrow the necklace and the bracelet and the earrings to see if it'd sway her opinion. It didn't._

 _Rosalie wasn't going to be taking her clothes off for the world again any time soon._

 _"What does your husband think about you doing things like that?"_

 _"I don't know?… We haven't really talked about it."_

 _"I'm guessing he's the reason you've started dressing differently though." The host suggested._

 _He was fishing something out of her, and I didn't know what it was, but I didn't like it._

 _"I'd say so." Rosalie shrugged. "But my Dad's been dressing him, so I guess I'd be the reason he's dressing differently too."_

 _She was amazing at turning around questions, and the audience picked up on her cheeky smile and whistled._

 _"You got me there." The host laughed._

 _"But, I'm sure you're aware you've had the nickname Saint Rosalie for quite a few years now." The host said, leaning forward on his elbows. "And, it's mostly because of the way you dressed."_

 _"Yes, I'm very well aware." Rosalie smiled lightly, nodding. "And, respectfully, I know that wasn't why I was called that…"_

 _The sparkle in her eyes was light-hearted and full of humor, but there was something brewing under her gaze that no one would've been able to detect but someone that really knew her._

 _"And your husband's had quite the opposite reputation himself… One ballerina he was seen a lot with right before he married you even said he was…"_

 _"I don't like discussing people that aren't here. It doesn't seem very fair." Rosalie interrupted strongly, looking down at her hands and a light flush touched her cheeks._

 _She was good. She was very good._

 _But, I could tell she was jealous because of the way her lips pouted. I couldn't help but smile a little as I watched her on the television in my hotel room, wishing I could lean over and kiss those perfectly pouted lips._

 _"I was just going to say I thought it was amusing Saint Rosalie ended up with the man that half of New York refers to as the Devil." He seemed to be annoyed that she retook control and so he pushed her now._

 _"I certainly don't think he deserves that…" Rosalie smiled lightly trying to brush it off, but I could tell by the way she wrinkled her nose she was displeased. "And, the only people that call him that are girls that couldn't keep his attention."_

 _Damn baby._

 _I snickered a laugh under my breath at the screen as the audience whispered and wooed._

 _"So when's the baby due?" The host asked, leaning forward on his elbows again with a sparkle of mischief in his eye._

 _The audience tittered and my stomach dropped as I watched all of this unfold on live television._

 _"Excuse me?" Rosalie's face turned a bright scarlet, and her eyes went wide. "I'm not…Well… We're not… I mean…"_

 _Rosalie's eyes darted toward the right corner and I knew that she was looking at her publicist for answers._

 _Damn. I should've been at that interview._

 _"You're not pregnant?" The host pushed, shock in his voice._

 _Funny story... We thought she was pregnant last week and it was one of the most terrifyingly awful things I had ever experienced. Rosalie was miserably upset when she finally admitted to me why she was acting so weird. She was a week late. She had cried for hours about how she wasn't ready, and then she cried even happier tears when she realized she didn't have to be._

 _I realized immediately the challenges of our age gap, because we'd had opposite reactions to this discovery. In her happy tears, I couldn't help but be a little disappointed, but I'd never tell her that._

 _"I'm most definitely not." Rosalie said strongly._

 _"It'd certainly explain some things." The host took a drink of coffee._

 _"What things?" Rosalie challenged._

 _"You're, what?… seventeen?"_

 _"Eighteen." Rosalie corrected quickly, her cheeks flushing. "Why is that important?"_

 _"Who's ready to get married at eighteen? It's not 1935 anymore."_

 _The audience laughed._

 _"Me. I'm ready." Rosalie responded._

 _"Is he?" The host pushed. "I mean… we're talking about_ Emmett McCarty _. You know, the day you got married there was a magazine released that had named him New York's most eligible bachelor."_

 _The audience laughed again._

 _It was an unfortunate coincidence._

 _"Are you implying that a baby is the only way I'm keeping his attention?" Rosalie caught on quickly and was stiff in her chair._

 _Damn. Damn. Damn._

 _Rosalie was quiet as she looked toward her publicist, calculating her next move and fuming…_

 _"Not at all! I mean, you're obviously a gorgeous girl." The host said, but something in his tone made this also seem insulting. "But, I mean… you got married before anyone even knew you were dating."_

 _Some of the audience tittered as the host said this._

 _"That was the point." Rosalie responded quickly. "Everyone thinks they know about your relationship when you let them into it."_

 _"Oh of course. But, you two have certainly kept us on our toes, Rosalie Hale." The host went on._

 _Rosalie just nodded, trying to get to the end of the interview._

 _"Honestly, I'm still just trying to figure it out. We all are. But, you've officially made it past the longest anyone guessed your marriage would make it!"_

 _"Three months. Yes, the public has no faith…" Rosalie fake laughed._

 _"Oh, I don't know. You've got lots of supporters! We've gotten lots of audience questions about sex." The host began, swapping the subject._

 _"I don't want to talk about that." Rosalie folded her hands and bit her lip, looking down at her lap. "My dad's probably watching this."_

 _"You're an undercover freak, I'm guessing." He suggested._

 _The audience hooped and hollered._

 _I mean… yes, but I didn't know how I felt about the world knowing that, or anyone talking to her about it._

 _"I don't… I don't talk about things like that." Rosalie looked at her publicist, her face a deep shade of scarlet._

 _Rosalie had very strict guidelines for her interviews that no doubt were shared with this host. There were rules her father had written. He was just blatantly disregarding them. I balled my hands into fists._

 _I was going to have to go through her guidelines myself with a fine tooth comb._

 _"One audience member wrote: I think you've still got his attention because he's busy being the one to break in Saint Rosalie."_

 _Then a look of absolute mortification struck Rosalie as she covered her mouth at the photo she saw on the screen behind them._

 _"She's done." Her publicist said off camera, and it was all chaotic then as Rosalie stood up._

 _"What are you doing?" Rosalie tilted her head, asking the interviewer in a tone filled with betrayal as her publicist came on stage and put her hand on her back, guiding her off the stage._

 _I stood up, unable to sit anymore in my hotel room._

 _"No please, please stay." The host begged for Rosalie to stay as she took off her mic._

 _The crowd was going wild._

 _I cursed under my breath. I should've been there._

One lucky son of a gun paparazzi had found Rosalie and I sneaking a little inappropriate public sex here and there for the past couple months and had released _all_ the photos at once so that the impact was more severe.

I'd heard he had a nude photo of Rosalie, and was trying to sell it, but he didn't really. He was just trying to get some extra money and banking on the day when he might. I did exhaustive research, and made sure he'd never be anywhere close to us and a compromising picture ever again.

I wouldn't have stood for photos exploiting Rosalie like that, but I didn't really mind having photos to remind _me_ of the hot sex I had with the hot wife I had. However, this whole situation and invasion of privacy obviously upset Rosalie so she came storming into the room with her phone in her hand first thing in the morning for the past week with something new that had been said about us.

In all the photos that were released, she was of course…. _scantily_ clothed. This was far from her modest Victorian uniform that she usually wore for the rest of the world.

Ever since I can remember, Rosalie had dressed extremely modestly and sometimes even wore true vintage like an old Hollywood starlet. Of course, it didn't take a crop top or a thigh high slit in her dress to show off her beauty, but needless to say, she was famously covered up for everyone but me.

Sure, she'd started easing up here and there, and she didn't have to tell me that her change in strictness had to do with the fact that for the first time… She felt safe. She didn't have to worry about her sexuality being used against her.

Until now…

She wore a scarlet blush on her cheeks now as she tittered in the corner over a newly released picture of her leg hiked up around my waist, her tongue down my throat, and her hand down the front of my pants in the bathroom of a restaurant.

"We should sue them! You can do that right?" She said, and I dropped my gaze to where I lounged, outstretched on our couch reading a book.

I was relaxed and nonchalant while Rosalie had been spinning like a tornado through our living room for the past week.

"There'd be no case for it to stand at trial. You're a public figure and I guess I am now too and we had no reasonable expectation of privacy in a public arena. I'm sorry." I said evenly, but tried to remain sympathetic to her cause because let's face it…

I was thinking about more of that hot sex.

"But, Emmett, everyone… _knows_ …" Her voice had a hint of panic in it.

I couldn't look at her or I'd be tempted to laugh at her adorable naivety.

"Rosalie Hale has sex with her husband?! _No!_ " I spoke cheekily, keeping my eyes on the page even though I wasn't reading. "Someone burn her at the stake!"

"Are you not _upset_ by this?!" Rosalie raved, her voice raising in pitch.

"Yes?… No?… _Yes?_ …" I tested answers.

I was honestly more upset that they'd waited to blindside her publicly when I wasn't around.

I raised my eyebrows expectantly, looking up at her now as she pouted, standing over me.

She deepened her pout and furrowed her brow in that extra cute way so I had no choice.

I snapped the book closed and reached for her hips, taking complete control of her as I pulled her down on top of me.

" _Emmett!_ " She practically shrieked as I swiped her waist underneath me so now I stared down into her eyes.

I grinned mischievously before I playfully kissed her cheek, loving the taste of her skin, but loving how she melted into my hands even more.

I pecked her on the lips lightheartedly and found those big blue eyes.

"I'm not upset. I'm sure _everyone's_ jealous of me. I have the most beautiful wife in the world." I told her.

Her eyes sparkled, and I knew I'd said the right thing.

But, she pursed those perfect pink lips and looked away to make me suffer.

It was fine. I'd work for it. I didn't mind.

"I have to go." She made an excuse, but her cheeks turned scarlet again.

"Just fifteen minutes." I requested in a whisper, ducking to kiss her long swan's neck like I knew she couldn't resist.

I felt her swallow and I smiled against her skin.

"I can't be late…" She insisted, though not as strongly as she'd intended, so I pushed her just a little more thinking she'd bend.

As my lips found hers and my fingers climbed under her shirt to make contact with the bare skin of her stomach, she kissed me back.

 _Victory._

I wanted to replay the sound she made when my hand found the clasp of her bra, flicking it open with expert claim.

But, it was nothing compared to the sounds I made her make over the next half hour.

She cursed, a colorful curse word that sounded foreign on her innocent mouth - _well… not so innocent anymore_ \- and gathered her clothes in a bundle as she scrambled up out of the floor.

"I'm going to be late." She growled, threading her arms through her black turtleneck.

"I'm sorry." I said, zipping my pants again as I watched her throw her clothes back on.

"No you aren't." She smiled smugly, finding a moment of glimmer in her eyes.

She practically jumped into her black cigarette pants and buttoned them while she stepped into her heels.

"Are you?" I asked her.

"Not when you make me feel that good…" She bit her lip and it made me take a deep inhale, already wanting her again.

All other distractions set aside, I could see she really was nervous about being in the public eye as globally as she would be today. She was no doubt thinking about how the public would view her after what they'd now seen of her.

The most irrational and stupid part of the whole thing was that Rosalie was getting lots of criticism for showing too much skin and oversharing her personal life - even though _she_ wasn't even the one in control of those photos.

A few weeks ago, she was criticized for being too conservative, too Victorian, too uptight.

We lived in a confusing world. There was no winning with the public. They raked her over the coals every chance they got, but… they loved her just the same.

It made no sense to me, and I didn't know how long it would take me to really get used to this world she existed in. I understood now why she'd insisted on getting married so fast - because even now that we were married, people were coming out of nowhere to try and sabotage or question our relationship.

People tried to catch me looking too long at a waitress or Rosalie having doubts and showing up somewhere where she'd looked like she'd been crying. They tried to find us fighting, or sometimes they even tried to provoke a fight between us by yelling questions at Rosalie about how she felt about my past.

But again, as much as they hated us… They _loved_ us even more.

Even with all the crazy press stuff, we were doing fine.

We ignored it and lived in our own world mostly.

It'd already been three months.

We'd been married for three months and we were getting the hang of this.

I thought we were actually starting to get pretty good at this whole marriage thing.

We were… _happy_.

"Hey…" I stood up from the floor and grabbed her arm.

She turned around quickly with that gorgeous glow on her face she always had after sex, but her eyes were wild.

"You're going to be fine." I told her.

"I… I know." She nodded, turning over her shoulder. "I've been doing this for years."

I ran my hand through my hair as she opened the door.

"But thanks." Rosalie whispered, keeping her eyes down as she lingered at the door. "You'll be there?"

She said this last part as half-statement, half-question.

"I'll be there." I told her confidently. "I love you."

A little smile touched her lips before she closed the door behind her.

"Rosalie's closing for Versace!" Alice squealed the moment she saw me, grabbing my arm with a vice grip I didn't know that title pixie had in her.

"First of all, _ow_." I winced over-dramatically.

"Oh, shut up" Alice growled. "Don't you know what this means? This is a _big_ deal. Gigi Hadid was supposed to close… _Gigi. Freaking. Hadid_!"

"She's been squealing about this for at least an hour when her contact working on the makeup team texted her that the lineup changed." Jasper sighed. "What I think is more noteworthy is that you're wearing _pink_."

I tossed my arm around Jasper's neck to trap him in a headlock.

"Mercy! I have a wife! I have a baby at home!" Jasper gasped as we fake wrestled with one another.

" _Christ, Emmett_! Don't kill my husband!" Alice groaned for real this time and a mischievous smile spread across my face as I decided I'd finally messed with Jasper enough.

Once Jasper and I had stopped laughing, I pushed up the sleeves to the aforementioned rose pink velvet blazer that Robert had insisted I wear today. He hadn't looked at me in the eyes when he came over with the new tailor. I didn't blame him. I couldn't look at him either.

No doubt he was not exactly thrilled about my grand impression on his innocent baby girl's reputation.

Most of what Robert told me to wear was far outside my personal taste.

But, it was fashion week in New York City and I knew what a big deal this was to the family I married into, so I had to make fashion a big deal to me now too. I knew it was important to let him show up with a tailor and a stylist with a rack of clothes, and I wore what they told me to wear without a protest.

"You can definitely tell you're married to a Hale now though." Alice grinned, looking me over. "Definite upgrade from your 'broke college professor' look from before."

"Oh shut up." I rolled my eyes, but we were walking up to the fashion show where a line of photographers was waiting and I had to mind the way I looked walking into Rosalie's fashion show.

I still couldn't get used to this world of constantly having to stand guard because someone was always watching me and drawing conclusions about me. I couldn't get the hang of this world, and Rosalie was born into it. She'd never lived in a world any different than this one.

Everyone was _always_ watching her. She was _always_ in front of a camera.

Nothing was private, and that was most definitely proven with the recent release of these photos.

Once right before we got married when I couldn't sleep, I'd Google searched Rosalie and that was probably the dumbest thing I could've ever done, because all it did was make me intensely angry. People that didn't even know her passed strong personal judgements about her.

I'd found an article written about her being the most spoiled celebrity child ever when she had a diamond rattle in her crib, and when she was just 3 years old her parents gave her a $75,000 pony and she cried so they took it back.

The media talked about her 2 million dollar wardrobe at age 7, and how she'd gotten to stay in Cinderella's Castle at Disney World after she lost her first tooth. People called her names and wrote such hateful things about her I couldn't even stomach it. And all of that was censored because she was just a kid and no one was that inhumane to rip apart a child, but once she turned fourteen, it seemed like all bets were off.

They were… _merciless_.

When I'd researched her for her case, I came across a lot of it, but now it was personal…

They crucified her ruthlessly for the dumbest things, but really… she was still just a kid.

She was just a kid…

Rosalie grew up under a microscope. They read into the littlest actions or criticized the most insignificant words she said.

This with me was the _last thing_ she'd had. This was her last little secret part of herself, and now the world knew about it.

She had felt safe, and now… Now, she didn't.

 _That's_ why she'd been so upset, and I couldn't see it before.

But now, under all the flashes, I did.

"Emmett?" Alice ripped me from my thoughts, an odd look on her face. "Come on?"

I realized I'd stopped dead in my tracks in front of all the lenses, and I shook my head to refocus.

Irrational flashes of anger perfectly mirrored the flashes of light all around me as I followed Jasper and Alice into the show. What was going on with me? Why was this upsetting me? I'd thought it was ridiculous not even an hour ago.

I accepted a kiss on both cheeks from about a hundred people I didn't know but that knew Rosalie and had a thousand things to tell me about her and how much they adored her.

It was like everyone was trying to convince me how great my wife was because they thought it wasn't certain we would stay together.

My cheeks hurt from how much I smiled and nodded.

"Mr. Hale?" A thin dark haired college aged boy in all black started once were were closer to the seating area, looking up from his clipboard urgently.

I wouldn't have known to answer to that name, until he reached out for me.

There was no stopping my laugh now.

"Do I _look_ like I have enough fashion sense to be a Hale?" I raised an eyebrow.

The boy responded to my humor with a snort, but didn't seem to have enough time to engage in it.

"I'm sorry. You're Rosalie's husband." He nodded, handing me a new envelope with my name on it. "Your seat assignment changed."

This peaked Alice's interest and she tried to look over my arm.

"It's a secret." I teased her as I tilted the envelope toward my chest, and she narrowed her eyes.

"Third row, _tops."_ Alice predicted thinking I'd been upgraded from fourth row, which was basically in exile or so Alice had said.

But lo and behold… There was a 1 on my ticket.

I soon found out about the intense politics of the seating chart of a fashion show and I had to admit I was intrigued as Alice explained it to me in exhaustive detail.

Alice could have just about died when she saw me take my place on the front row, and not just _on the front row_ … Apparently there was also a hierarchy on the _place_ in row too. She texted me to tell me I was in prime "money shot" territory for all the reporters. I was seated between all the A-listers so we could all be photographed at once. Alice also mentioned in her text to make sure I watched what I was doing at every second.

There would be pictures taken at any moment.

I felt like a zoo animal, which I imagined was what Rosalie had felt like her entire life…

Alice and Jasper sat down the row from me by the photographer at the end of the runway with Anna Wintour, Nina Garcia, and Heidi Klum.

I felt intensely like an outsider sitting here for the world to see, especially as I sat between Rihanna and Kim Kardashian. The 'who exactly are you?' conversation was tip-toed around because by no means did I deserve to be sitting between them, but it came up that I was married to Rosalie so Robert Hale was my father in law.

Also, it really helped that I could talk to a brick wall because I started to be a little more accepted - especially once I got a laugh out of Rihanna.

"You know, I heard you didn't waste _any_ time with Rosalie Hale." Kanye West started, raising an eyebrow. "She turned 18 like two hours before you got married, right?"

I snorted.

"I mean, I had to sweep her up before someone else did." I tried to keep things lighthearted and I chuckled under my breath. "It's not like I'm even in her league. I had to marry her before she figured that out!"

"I respect that." He nodded with a laugh. "And, I get it."

He put his hand on Kim's thigh right as the lights went down.

And out of my league Rosalie proved to be.

I couldn't help but ogle at her as she opened the show in a black dress with her long blonde hair pulled back in an ultra sexy way.

Rihanna elbowed me and whispered to me to pick my jaw up off the floor when I noticed the whole dress was transparent and I could see every curve of Rosalie's perfect body.

I couldn't help but grin, feeling my dimples deepen in my cheeks.

The rest of the show passed in a blur, and I kept thinking about Rosalie every second.

Then, it was the closing of the show and what really happened was the furthest thing from what I would have ever imagined.

Rosalie stepped from the sideline and looked entirely different than she had in the rest of the show and entirely different than the entire aesthetic of the show.

Now, her blonde hair was freshly wet so that streams of water were designed to race down her body and leave trails on her milk white skin.

On her wet hair was a thin silver crown that remarkably resembled a halo.

 _Saint Rosalie…_

Her face was free of heavy makeup, and she looked like she'd just stepped out of the shower at home. She looked naturally angelic walking barefoot down the runway in a pair of white boy brief cotton underwear.

But what was really the most shocking thing was her white t-shirt that said in block black letters, 'Get Out of My Bed and Into Something Important, UN WOMEN'

Before I could even process or react, people around me were giving a standing ovation.

The entire audience tittered, but Rosalie was a professional and remained unshaken.

As Rosalie passed my place, it felt like the world was moving in slow motion. I realized I'd stood too, and I couldn't even think about the expression on my face as I watched her in her element.

The look on her face right now was the look she'd had in that court room when I looked over at her after the judge's decision.

She was radiantly triumphant. She was unwaveringly confident.

People were applauding and whistling as Rosalie didn't stop to pose at the end of the runway. Instead, she turned right around herself and reached out for the lapels of my jacket, pulling me down to kiss her.

She kissed me strong and sweet in the middle of the runway show as the finale began and the rest of the looks flooded the runway behind her.

The world stood still with her lips on mine so I didn't even hear the whistles and cheers from the audience.

I was in utter and complete shock as Rosalie pulled away, but I grinned down at her, frozen in shock like a teenaged dirtbag kissed by the most popular girl in school.

Rosalie winked at me with a sparkle in her gaze, then turned to take the designer's hand as they took their bows.

"Brilliant." Rihanna nodded at me thoughtfully like she'd been looking at a painting in a museum. "Absolutely brilliant."

I couldn't take my eyes off Rosalie.

Her smile was bright under the stage lights, and her eyes found mine again.

They always found mine.


	57. Would That I

_HERE YOU GO! Thanks for waiting and so here's another chapter! Yippee! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! It's part past and part present and I think the flashback ties in the last chapter._

 _You got a little break from the drama, so here's some more. hehehe._

 _Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _I've been writing a little ahead of myself so I need to fill in the gaps... I love hearing your ideas!_

 _ **Is there anything else you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

* * *

 ** _Would That I - Hozier_**

 _With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet_  
 _Like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat_  
 _Settle soft and as pure as snow_  
 _I fell in love with the fire long ago_  
 _With each love I cut loose I was never the same_  
 _Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame_  
 _I was fixed on your hand of gold_  
 _Laying waste to my loving long ago_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _September, The Day Before She Came to Dinner_

"I'm glad you guys made it." Jasper said, shutting the door behind us.

I nodded. We were an hour and a half late.

The children weren't here. Alice had already put them to sleep.

But, she had Harper in her arms, bouncing her as she cried. I didn't look at her for too long. I kept my eyes down at my feet.

Emmett put his arm around my shoulder and I crouched under his weight.

"Jasper!" Emmett reached out with his free hand to clap Jasper on the arm. "Jasper… Jasper… Jasper…"

"Well, how are you?" Jasper chuckled, but wasn't amused.

Emmett was blackout drunk. That's how he was.

What else was new?

"Never better." Emmett stumbled forward. "Just look at how beautiful Rosalie is. Just look at her. Isn't she beautiful?"

He grabbed my chin and kissed my cheek.

I swallowed as I shrunk from his hold on me.

As he let me go he stumbled off his balance. I stayed looking straight ahead as he caught himself on a side table.

He took a long drink from the bottle he gripped the neck of in his left hand.

I didn't need alcohol to feel this numb, but he did.

He knew that.

The night went on as most nights do for me - in a hum like I'm watching someone else live my life. I'm watching from afar. Everything sounds and feels far away.

I couldn't look at Emmett. He was drunker than a freshman fraternity boy right now so he wasn't himself, but those eyes… His eyes were still so hard to look into.

I still couldn't look at him, even after all this time.

But, he was always looking at me.

Always.

I felt the weight of his eyes heavily on me all the time.

He was always watching me. I was like a zoo animal or a lab rat. I was always being watched.

Alice was asking him something while we sat in the living room together, but it sounded like she was underwater so I didn't look up.

Then with a loud thud, Emmett hit the floor.

Emmett was off balance and so drunk he had rolled from the chair to the floor.

"Oh my God, Jasper?" Alice reached for Emmett on the floor, but had a sleeping baby in her arms.

I kept my hands in my lap, still feeling numb, but I blinked as I turned my head.

"He's fine. He does this all the time." I mumbled, staying detached.

"Sorry…" Emmett slurred, trying unsuccessfully to push himself back to his feet.

"All right, Em. Let's get up." Jasper grunted, fighting with his drunken dead weight.

Alice smiled tightly, trying to act like nothing was wrong, but Harper had started to cry.

"Emmett, why don't you hand me the bottle?" Alice requested talking to him like she was talking to one of her children.

Emmett's head sunk forward limply, and so Alice took the bottle without protest and put it in the kitchen.

"We called you over here to talk to you about something important." Jasper started, his tone grave.

The look in his eye would've made me shiver if it had been a year ago.

But now, I just sighed, trying to tune out the crying baby in the background.

"Are you listening to me?" Jasper asked, Emmett's damn brown eyes still heavy on me.

"Sorry I'm such an _embarrassment_ to you, Rose…" Emmett started, his tone far from genuine.

It was full of anger.

He was referring to an article that had just been released and he'd been at the top of the Drunk Celebrity Hall of Fame.

"Not now." I breathed, keeping my eyes down at my hands.

"When?" Emmett's voice rose as he reached for my hand.

I yanked my hand back and away from his where my nerve endings had caught fire.

"I am _not_ doing this with you right now!" I gritted my teeth.

"She's mad because I was supposed to have sex with her today on my lunch break. She runs a tight schedule, and apparently that was perfect baby making time."

Emmett was headed toward the kitchen where that bottle was, stumbling so he knocked over a lamp, but luckily Jasper caught it.

"Emmett!" I scolded, crossing my arms. "I showed up and you were already _drunk_! I'm _not_ talking about this right now!"

"Stop it!" Jasper's voice rose to meet his, trying to call Emmett and I down.

"Mommy?" Alec's tiny baby voice came from the corner and he sounded scared.

Everyone's eyes darted to him now.

My heart would have broken into a thousand pieces if I hadn't gritted my teeth so hard to keep it together.

"It's okay, baby." Alice smiled to him, still trying to get Harper to calm down too.

"But, there was yelling…" Alec protested.

I closed my eyes and knotted my fingers together trying to drown out the sound.

As Alice worked to get Alec back to sleep and Harper to stop crying, Jasper stayed stone still holding Emmett up.

"You can't do this anymore." Jasper told him, not acknowledging my presence.

I existed now more like a phantom that people could just forget haunted the room.

"I'm just…" Emmett protested, sliding back down to sit next to me. "I'm sorry. Jasper, I'm sorry. Tell Alice, I'm sorry."

Jasper knelt in front of him talking to him like a disappointed basketball coach. Emmett's head nodded forward looking at the ground.

I watched him from the corner of my eye, but couldn't look over.

"Listen. Edward's bringing a date tomorrow." Jasper grabbed Emmett's face so he'd have to look at him.

"This girl's different. She's important." Jasper went on.

"Okay." Emmett drunkenly shrugged away from him, but Jasper wasn't finished.

"Edward's serious about her, all right?"

I flinched, wrinkling my nose slightly.

Emmett didn't respond, trying unsuccessfully to focus. I wondered if he'd even remember this tomorrow.

"He won't ask this of you, but I will." Jasper fought for Emmett's drunken eyes. "You'd better clean yourself up for her tomorrow, Emmett or don't bother showing up. Do you hear me?"

"Sure. I hear you." Emmett mumbled, slurring so he was barely understandable.

"You better clean yourself up for this girl tomorrow. I'm serious." Jasper spoke authoritatively which I knew Emmett hated.

He hated being told what to do. His eyes narrowed.

"Both of you, _please_ try tomorrow. Please." Jasper acknowledged me now.

But, I barely heard him. It sounded like he was underwater still.

If Jasper only knew...

We were. And we had been for a year...

 _This_ is what trying looked like for us...

"Fine." Emmett spoke for both of us like he always did, so I just kept my eyes down.

"There's one more thing you should know before tomorrow." Jasper began, his voice changing tone to that special tone everyone used around Emmett and I when they were thinking we were too fragile for a conversation. "Like I said, Edward's really serious about this girl. He wouldn't bring her around unless it was really important."

Emmett and I waited.

"Edward is… starting a family with her. They're… They're having a baby together."

The words were crisp and clear and shattered through the protective covering I'd had over me for the entirety of the year.

Now, I looked up.

* * *

 _Present, February 17, in the hospital waiting room_

I sat next to Emmett trying not to squirm even though my back was starting to ache and I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust if I had to sit still for one more second.

His head was on my shoulder, and his hand was in my lap.

I traced patterns on his forearm to keep myself busy, but I was about to burst.

"There are thirteen chairs in here." Emmett told me in a mumble, shivering at my fingers on the smooth skin of the inside of his forearm.

I counted quickly, while I let my fingers linger on his wrist, now completely healed.

"Yeah, there are." I nodded, trying not to sound impressed that he'd been able to recognize that.

Even though every little thing was an accomplishment, he hated when people treated it like one. I tried to treat him the exact same because I knew it killed him when I didn't.

But, he wasn't the same. He was different.

"I thought it would be… an even number." Emmett said, that being the real reason he was counting the chairs.

"There's fourteen with you though." I told him trying to ease whatever fixation he had, referring to the space he took for his wheelchair.

Before he could respond, the doors opened.

My head shot toward the doors hoping it was Edward or a doctor with some news.

It wasn't.

A nurse walked with a new mother in a wheelchair that was holding her new baby. The father was looking over her shoulder, doting on the bundle of blue blanket.

"Congratulations." Emmett said when the couple caught us staring.

I swallowed, the noise getting further and further away so now we were left in the too quiet waiting room once again.

"We should ask again." Emmett suggested, his eyes following the nurse walking toward the front desk. "Maybe… she had news."

"Okay." I said, putting his hand back in his own lap as I stood.

I tried not to be too eager to get up and move, but I took any chance I could.

My knees felt wobbly as I walked toward the glass, waiting for it to slide open.

I knew the woman's face because I remember every single detail about the last time I was in this hospital.

She tried to pretend she didn't know who Emmett and I were, but I saw the pity in her eyes as she watched us when she thought we weren't looking.

"The doctor will update you if there's any news." She said, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"But, we just saw someone walk out and it's been hours. Can you really not tell us anything?" I asked.

"If there's any news, the doctor will update you." The woman repeated the same words in a different order.

I pursed my lips.

"We've been…" I started,

"You should go home and get some rest." She suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"We can't." I argued. "We can't leave."

My heart started racing and I felt a hollow pang in my stomach.

"Okay, then you'll have to wait until the doctor gives you an update." The woman told me.

I realized with defeat that we weren't getting anywhere.

Emmett's eyes watched me with anticipation, but he read the look on my face and sunk with disappointment.

"Are you hungry?" I asked him, taking his wallet out of his jacket pocket.

I never carried change, and I knew he did.

He shook his head.

"Em, come on. It's been ten hours."

"Nine hours and forty seven minutes. I'm fine." He argued, looking at the clock and figuring it.

He was just trying to prove to himself he was getting mentally sharper. I saw what he was doing, but I tried not to acknowledge it.

"I'm getting you at least a Snickers bar." I told him. "You'll eat that."

The corner of his mouth turned up.

"Okay." He gave in.

He always gave in to chocolate.

I also didn't know how much longer I could sit next to him in total silence. Neither one of us wanted to say it.

 _It was too early._

It was February 17th and Bella wasn't full term. Yes, she was close at 34 weeks, but Clarke's brain and lungs were still developing. She needed every day, every week, every bit of time she could get….

But today, Bella's water broke while she was out with me for lunch and baby shopping.

It terrified me, knowing the risks of a premature birth, but this baby had a fighting chance. We just had to act fast.

I did the best thing I knew to do and that was call an ambulance and then call Edward.

I got Bella into the hospital and into the care of doctors and nurses that would know what to do.

Edward got there just in time to go back with her and the doctors. I'd never seen him so scared, but I didn't blame him.

No one could.

Then, when I was alone in the waiting room being suffocated by the heavy silence, boring beige walls, and forest green chair cushions covered with plastic, I called Emmett.

Then... I was paralyzed.

I didn't have to say much. He knew. And as soon as he got here, we hadn't had to say anything. He and I sat in silence, always touching.

This was hard for both of us.

I stood in front of the vending machine alone now my skin already missing his, but I needed to take a deep breath.

I stared at the fluorescent lights and colored plastic wrappers until my eyes glazed over.

Every time a baby was born, they'd play a lullaby over the intercom.

Each time didn't get any easier.

I remember the silence after Colette was born. The absolute earth-shattering silence.

I furrowed my brow, trying to push out the memory so I could be here in the present.

Emmett and I were the only ones here.

We were all Bella and Edward had right now. We weren't enough, but we couldn't leave them.

Alice and Jasper were visiting his family in New Orleans.

Elizabeth and my father would be here soon. My dad had been taking a design trip to Tokyo and he'd taken Elizabeth. They'd thought the baby wasn't supposed to be here for another 6 weeks, and they would've been right.

But… Today…

My father had gotten a private plane to fly he and Elizabeth back home as soon as I'd called him with the news. They'd be here in a few hours.

Bella's parents… I had no idea…

But, it didn't look like they'd be showing up any time soon.

It was up to Emmett and I...

The two most broken people...

The two people who could handle this situation the least...

The two people who didn't know what to say...

The two people that had arguably the worst combined luck in the world...

I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against the glass.

Just for a second…

"Ma'am?" I heard a deep voice behind me.

My eyes snapped open.

"I'm so sorry. Go ahead." I stumbled through my words quickly, turning around and stepping aside so he could go to the vending machine before me.

"Still trying to decide?"

He didn't know how right he was. But, not about the junk food.

"Yes." I swallowed and my eyes darted toward the door, watching another perfectly happy couple with their baby exit through the swinging doors.

I exhaled disappointedly.

"Here for a baby?" The man about fifty or sixty something asked.

I just nodded because it'd be easier than saying anything else.

"And you?" I asked, because it seemed like he wanted me to as he stared me.

"My fifth grandson!" The man grinned as he punched the buttons to the machine, dispensing some potato chips. "I keep wanting a granddaughter but I keep having grandsons!"

"That's great." I smiled tightly, feeling like I was breathing through a coffee stirrer.

"I keep waiting on a little girl, but… I guess this'll do." He joked.

"I suppose so." I swallowed, clenching my teeth together and focusing on pressing the numbers for a snickers bar.

I really wanted one too. I was starving, so I went in for a second.

"What about you?" He asked. "Your family?"

"My… my brother's having a daughter." I told this stranger.

"That's just delightful!" He grinned, crunching again.

I swallowed.

"Guess that puts the pressure on you now." He nodded toward my ring.

I just fake chuckled, hoping this would be the end of that.

"That's your lucky guy?" The old man asked, nodding toward Emmett.

Emmett's eyes were fixed on a television on the wall in front of him. He was 'counting' by tapping each of his fingers against his thumb one by one.

The habit came out of nowhere yesterday, and it was like he couldn't stop, but I still smiled, knowing his motor skills were improving drastically.

Another random thing that had happened yesterday was he started speaking a little French. Apparently it was deep in his brain and all this picking around had brought it to the forefront.

The surprises kept coming, but still... he just had his sights set on walking.

And, that killed me.

Emmett would've liked to have heard this man say he was lucky. This man, referring to him and treating him so normally… It was _refreshing_.

These past few months, people called him lucky for thousands of different reasons, but none of them were because of something as trivial as being married to me.

He was lucky to be alive. He was lucky to know his own name. He was lucky to breathe on his own.

But these things rang empty because they were all filled with 'you should be happy with that.' And the frank reality was... He wasn't. He wasn't satisfied just being alive. He wanted to be himself again.

He'd never tell anyone that, but I knew him, and I could see it.

He tried being happy just being alive, but he felt terrible because... he wanted more.

The man walked up to Emmett before I could get the candy bar from the slot, extending his hand and talking to him as anyone would.

I noticed Emmett smile, and I mean _really_ smile before the man headed toward a group of people beginning to gather on the other side of the room.

It was simple, but, having this man acknowledge Emmett as himself was the most refreshing thing that had happened in months.

I wanted to hug this stranger. He had no idea what he'd just done.

As I sat back down next to Emmett, I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

He seemed taken aback at first, then he kissed me back.

I pulled away, keeping my forehead attached to his.

"What's that for?" He asked as I kissed him once more.

"I love you." I whispered, lying my head on his shoulder as I pulled away.

"You're telling me they were out of chocolate." He guessed, some of his humor coming back in his voice.

The healing power of just _one_ person not treating him like he was an object of pity had done wonders for him…

I reveled in Emmett's smile, then I puled away smiling myself as I produced the promised chocolate.

"You're the best wife I've ever had…" Emmett said, and I loved hearing him come back into his voice.

Times like these made me think that he was really still in there, and he was starting to come out. Things were going to get better. They had to.

"I'm the _only_ wife you've ever had." I told him, watching him unwrap the plastic with ease.

I didn't think I would ever get to the point where everything he did didn't seem miraculous to me.

I ran my hand through his hair, being careful of course.

"She's going to be okay, you know." Emmett said after a few minutes, but I think what he was really saying was much more than that, so it hit me hard.

 _Everything_ was going to be okay.

Our lives had changed drastically since the last time we were in this waiting room for. We were stronger now. We had both grown up immensely. A little over a year ago, we'd come barreling in through those doors, and I'd had our baby 19 weeks too early. I was just a year younger at 22, but it seemed like a century ago.

We weren't ready for the tragedy that befell us in this past year, but we were stronger for it. We'd changed. We'd grown.

And despite the darkness that seemed to surround us, Emmett and I were far more adept at believing in miracles…

Because we had to believe.

So we did.

Miracles had to exist.

We needed one for Bella and Clarke today.

And we needed just a few more for ourselves if that wasn't being too greedy…

I just nodded at what he'd said and what he didn't say, then our silence resumed.

Every single breath, every single swing of the door jolted us alert.

But each time, we just waited… And waited…. And waited…

I kept my head on his shoulder now, my eyelids feeling heavy even though sleep couldn't have found me.

My head was swimming with thought.

Three days ago now, Emmett had proposed to me again.

But then… then he also told me he… he couldn't fathom being a father and giving me what he knew I wanted.

A baby.

And the one distinction wasn't that he couldn't... But he _wouldn't want to_...

And, I couldn't pretend that wasn't… _devastating_.

Maybe though, it was all a sign…

All of it was an elaborate sign…

Maybe Emmett was right and this was all just proving we weren't meant to have kids…

But, I couldn't accept that. I couldn't.

Especially not now.


	58. Wait

_HAPPY READING PEOPLE!_

 _Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _I've been writing a little ahead of myself so I need to fill in the gaps... I love hearing your ideas!_

 _ **Is there anything else you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

* * *

 _ **Wait - M83**_

 _Set your dreams where nobody hides_  
 _Give your tears to the tide_  
 _No time_  
 _No time_

 _There's no end, there is no goodbye_  
 _Disappear with night_

 _No time_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _22 hours later_

The notes of the lullaby rang through my ear again and again until I wondered if I'd even heard it at all.

My father and Elizabeth were here now and I watched my dad pace back and forth across the tiny waiting room. Elizabeth was sitting absolutely stone still, her hands folded in her lap as she stared at the door, waiting anxiously.

"4,578… 4,579…" Emmett was counting my father's steps under his breath, his eyes ticking like an Italian clock as he watched the swing of the pendulum.

Emmett was in pain. I could see it in his eyes and the tension he held in his shoulders.

After he made it to an even number, he stopped counting and put his hand to his temple.

"Are you okay?" I asked him, rubbing my hand over his upper back hoping to erase his tension.

He still held it.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Emmett was lying through his teeth, as his eyes closed tightly and now both hands came to the side of his head.

"You should go home and sleep… You don't have to be here… You…" I started, but he cut me off as his eyes snapped open to look at me with an intensity in his gaze.

"I'm not leaving." He said strongly, his hands in fists in his lap now to prove he was fine.

His eyes said what his sentence didn't.

We didn't know yet the kind of support Edward and Bella would need during this time, but honestly… we weren't exactly the people to give it either way. Emmett and I were broken and messy and so full of holes that we couldn't hope to fill anyone else up.

We were empty so we had nothing to pour out.

Elizabeth and my father were here and they were much more adept at giving Edward and Bella the support they so desperately needed.

Emmett didn't mean he wasn't leaving the hospital or leaving Edward and Bella.

He meant he wasn't leaving _me_ here alone.

No doubt he could read the pain on my face, just like I could read his.

And as time passed and we got more and more tired, I started to blend the past with the present and I began to imagine it'd taint the future. Being back in this room, I remembered with perfect clarity the look on the receptionist's face when Emmett came in with me that afternoon we lost Colette.

We were still dripping puddles from our soaking wet clothes. I remembered the shape of the water on the tile and the horror of seeing a bright red drop against the white tile and denying what that meant. I remembered the blood on Emmett's white shirt because my legs were wrapped around his waist.

I remembered noticing his hand shaking on my back and underneath my thigh and knowing it wasn't from carrying my weight.

I remembered I was wearing a white sun dress that day. It was Emmett's favorite dress of mine. I'd worn it because I wanted to make him happy. I was going to surprise him at court that day and tell him I wanted to go to the villa in Greece the next day as a last trip together before the baby. He was finished up with a case so he could leave work. It'd be perfect timing.

I remember the sunlight pouring through the window and being in bed with Emmett that morning, both of us giddy with happiness. I remembered not feeling right when I woke up, thinking I was getting a cold. I remember Emmett kissing my forehead and talking to Colette. He talked to her like he would talk to me, and that day he was trying to tell her about how beautiful New York was in the fall and that she'd love it one day. He tied his tie and told she and I he loved us before he left for court.

Then, I remember the pain, and… _and the blood_ …

I remember the look on Emmett's face when he opened the bathroom door and I asked him to make it stop. I remember thinking irrationally in that moment that he possessed the power to make that happen. He could fix _everything else_ …

I remember the smell of his cologne when he picked me up and I buried my face into his neck, clinging to him like a nightmare-ridden child.

He never wore that cologne again.

The smell instantly transported us back.

Now, we were spending 22 hours trapped in this room that had its own distinct smell associated with the memory… We weren't just transported back to that day… We were reliving it.

The past and present seemed to start to infect the future like a virus and the same thought ran through my mind again and again and I heard Emmett's voice asking me on Valentine's Day if we weren't meant to have children.

Maybe we weren't…

Maybe… Maybe we would end up in this waiting room again…

It seemed to always be calling us back…

Maybe… Maybe every baby I had in my womb would turn to dust…

Maybe we'd always end up here… Maybe we were cursed.

I didn't say anything for a little while and I crossed my arms over my stomach to try and hold everything in that I so desperately just wanted to scream.

I took a deep breath.

"This is… _hard_ for me." I said, trying to take Vera's advice and be honest with Emmett about my vulnerability more often.

Vera and John had to leave last weekend, but she had called me once every couple of days. Most of the time it wasn't even in a professional capacity. Vera had become my friend.

Vera encouraged me to be more honest with Emmett and that would make him be more honest with me. He never asked for my help, even when he needed it, and maybe just maybe if I leaned on him, he'd be strong enough to lean on me too. Then… we could balance and we could figure out this new dynamic.

But, it was difficult to try and get Emmett to rely on anyone else but himself.

Emmett's gaze softened and I noticed the torture in his deep brown eyes that looked black in this moment.

"I know." He mumbled, looking down at his hands as I reached out for one of them.

"It's hard for me too." Emmett admitted as he laced his fingers through mine.

His eyes came up to meet mine, and as I lost myself in his gaze, I found that comfort I'd been looking for.

We were both damaged and broken in the same way.

Neither of us was alone.

I exhaled and he finally laid his head on my shoulder.

We made quite the pair - him with his messed up head and me with my messed up body.

I closed my eyes as my fingers found his hair and danced along his hairline. I carefully avoided his scars, and he shivered at my touch.

"I wouldn't have wished this on my worst enemy." Emmett started in a whisper.

I kept my eyes on my fingers. He wasn't looking at me either.

"That day, I just felt…. so out of control… So helpless." He went on. "It's easy to… to remember that feeling. I hate Edward and Bella have to feel that way."

My stomach dropped and I just nodded, my fingers going still in his hair.

"I know…" It was all I could say.

"Em…" I said, noticing the change in my voice that made it sound small.

He sat up and looked at me now. I took a deep breath, studying his perfect face and noticing the purple rings around his eyes from exhaustion.

"I'm scared." I finally said, thinking this would ease the itch in my soul.

It didn't. But, it did pull some of the weight off of my chest so I wasn't so suffocated.

He took a deep breath and reaching for my hand.

His eyes remained fixated on his fingers slowly intertwining with mine again, and he finally let out the breath he was holding.

He didn't say anything, but he tugged on my wrist slightly so I'd sit forward and closer to him and he could kiss my forehead.

I closed my eyes as his lips lingered there, his thumb tracing a circle on my cheek.

I reveled in our closeness, and I wanted to breathe him in. Even in front of all of these people, in a place where we had nothing but terrible memories left, I wanted to be absorbed into him, _become_ him on a cellular level.

My emotions were all over the place, which was something incredibly rare for me. Emmett no doubt sensed this.

We had become one human being in the 22 hours next to each other in this hell, and the only thing allowing us to survive was having the knowledge that he was me, and I was him.

We were fused into one person, and we'd become indistinguishable.

His hand found my hair and as his forehead touched mine, he tucked my hair behind my ears.

"Me too." He kissed my lips tenderly, then pulled away, running his hand through my hair again looking at me with a searching gaze.

I wondered what he'd find in my eyes.

Maybe he even sensed it… I shivered.

Then, the door opened and our eyes shot to the space. My father stopped dead in his tracks and Elizabeth jumped to her feet.

 _Edward._

Emmett's fingers left mine.

Edward's eyes were red, with purple rings around them. His skin was pale so those colors of emotion and exhaustion were bright on his face. He looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

Time moved slowly then and it was so quiet that I thought I could hear Edward's heartbeat from across the room.

"Son?…" My father was the first person Edward made eye contact with.

Their relationship hadn't been as polarizing as my relationship had been with Elizabeth. Honestly, their relationship was full of just distant respect, but in this moment, my father was the person Edward looked to.

"We're here for you." My father said, his hands lifting slightly with his palms open

Then, Edward did something extremely out of character, and so odd it was like the universe had shifted.

He was overcome with emotion and rushed to throw his arms around my dad. My father's eyes caught mine over Edward's shoulder and they were wild and full of panicked questions.

I swallowed nervously.

We didn't know what kind of news Edward was bringing, and it wasn't evident by his current reaction.

Emmett was counting on his fingers so I knew he was nervous, even though his left hand eventually reached for me.

Emmett and I exchanged a look, unsure.

"Edward?…" Elizabeth started, her hand hovering over his back.

He pulled away from my father long enough to take a deep breath and grab his mother's hand in his.

"She's… She's here and…. God, she's beautiful and…" Edward went on, his eyes glassy and far away.

Everyone in the room exhaled together.

"She's… She's so small, but… she's so… _beautiful_."

He spoke in a breathy, airy tone and his expression began to morph into a dreamy smile as he brought the best news we could have hoped for. Edward's happiness flooded the room and it was hard to believe he was a father. In this moment, he looked so _young_.

Congratulations filled the room and so did some happy and relieved tears most of which were my own.

"When can we see her?" I asked, my tone stronger than I'd anticipated.

"Bella's sleeping right now, but… but soon…" Edward smiled, and it was evident he was still processing. "It's…It's all okay. Everything's fine. _More than fine_ …"

But as he did process, his smile grew bigger and bigger until I imagined his face would split in half.

He was a new father, filled with the emotional high that can only be achieved through the first time of looking into the eyes of something you made with your own body with the person you love most in this entire world.

Edward was filled to the brim with anticipation and promise. And even though he looked startlingly younger in this moment, there was a wisdom and power in his eyes that made me shiver when I looked at him. He was ready. He was growing up.

He wanted to be everything his and Bella's little girl would ever need. His confidence and insecurity about being a good father to Clarke coexisted, but with so much love and optimism, it was hard to acknowledge that no one was ever ready for this.

In this moment, he was though.

Edward shone with the glow of new parenthood. He was filled with pride, and I saw the proof of heaven in his eyes.

The brilliance of his smile took my breath, and I stood in awe of him until I noticed Emmett slowly retreat, taking his hand out of mine.

He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand inconspicuously.

I decided not to bring attention to it, and so I looked away from him. No one else had noticed he'd cried because of the chaos of the room.

"Do you or Bella need anything?" Emmett asked him and I could hear how much he was struggling to keep his voice even. "Rose and I would be happy to…"

Edward cut him off.

"Just you being here is more than enough." Edward smiled and put his hand on Emmett's shoulder.

"How's Bella?" Emmett was the first to ask.

"She's good, just tired… She's so strong… So so strong…. I can't believe what she did… I mean… she…"

"I know." Emmett just nodded, an odd look in his eye.

He _did_ know.

A few hours later I walked beside Emmett's wheelchair through the doors that opened for us once more. The first time they'd opened for us, I'd been the one in the wheelchair.

The first time these doors had opened for us, the white tile and pale walls seemed demented, the fluorescent lights seemed exposing and the hallway seemed absent of color except the bright vermillion blood.

Now, there were pastel colors everywhere, sunlight pouring in through windows and smiles on everyone's faces. We had opened the doors to Stepford. Chatter filled the hallways and it sounded like babies were cooing on every corner.

I tried not to acknowledge the sour taste in my mouth as I dodged balloons and bouquets as we made our way to the end of the hall, but I couldn't ignore the look on Emmett's face as we trailed behind Robert, Elizabeth, and Edward.

It impaled me like a hot knife when he grabbed my hand urgently, wanting me to stop once we were right outside the very door we'd once been behind.

The coincidence was too much, and I wondered if this was just a bad dream because there's no way Bella was in _that_ room.

But she was…

 _4365_

There was no mistaking it.

At first I thought I'd mis-remembered, but the look on Emmett's face made it obvious we both couldn't have remembered incorrectly.

Emmett looked up at me with a gaze that crushed my soul. He communicated with me with just a gaze and I insisted Elizabeth and my Dad go visit with Edward, Bella, and the baby themselves first.

Emmett and I smiled like nothing was wrong and we just pretended we valued their privacy.

But, I was utterly crushed that Edward was the one who'd made my own father a grandfather…

When they'd closed the door behind them, and we heard the most perfect outpouring of happiness begin to muffle, mine and Emmett's perfect acting smiles faded.

"Rose?…" I'd never heard this tone to his voice before.

His eyes were so dark they looked black, and he kept a tight grip on my wrist as he pulled me closer.

"We just need a second." I swallowed, trying to assure him, but also myself.

"I don't know if I can do this…" He spoke under his breath, horror in his eyes as he reluctantly admitted his limitations to me.

Vera was right. He'd opened up to me like a spring flower the moment I opened up to him.

I didn't know what to say.

"Emmett, it's okay…" I said, but I didn't believe it and I couldn't lie to him.

"No. It isn't. I really don't think I can go in there." He said.

"I…" I started, but didn't know how to finish.

"I want to be happy, but I'm not…" Emmett said in a whisper like he was trying not to be heard, his eyes darting over my face.

"It's just… Listen… Your doctor said that emotions are difficult to process and identify for you right now. And you're really tired…"

"Dammit Rosalie…" He ripped his hand out of mine like I'd betrayed him, cursing foully. "You know good and well that's not it."

"Em…" I didn't know what to say, my heart was heavy and whatever bliss and Mayberry perfection had existed in this hallway before was long gone.

It was dark and stormy around us, like the cloud had followed us and we were cursed with the torrential downpour.

I knelt down in front of him, but he looked away from me.

He looked down at his lap, shame in his velvet voice as he spoke up.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you." He mumbled.

I didn't know what to say, and my heart beat out of my chest.

"How long am I going to have to distrust _everything I think_?!" He took a deep inhale.

I didn't have an answer to that question, so I just looked away.

"I don't know Em…" I finally answered, my hands on his knees. "But, you're going to have to trust the people around you that love you and just want the best for you to give you good advice and guide you."

Emmett narrowed his eyes knowing I was just quoting one of the doctors we'd seen.

I switched course.

"Em, you're going to have to trust _me_." I said, taking his hand.

He pulled back.

"I do. But I'm telling you, I don't think I can do this." Emmett insisted. "And I think that's a perfectly rational response even though you're trying to deny that it is."

"It _is_ perfectly rational because I am feeling the _exact same thing_." I agreed, finally letting him know that this wasn't all sunshines and rainbows for me. "I didn't mean to make you think any differently."

I was upset. I was hurt. I was devastated when I was supposed to be filled with joy.

The darkness and jealousy he couldn't process, I felt just as strongly. It was hard to process that this was supposed to be a moment we were undeniably happy for someone else, but we _weren't_.

We didn't want to believe it was because we were rotten, awful people, and we thought that maybe we were… We felt selfish… We felt terrible… While of course we didn't want anything bad to happen to anyone else, we weren't happy right now that _yet again_ for someone else everything had worked out perfectly when it had all gone to hell for us… We were supposed to be happy right now, but we weren't… We tried, but we couldn't be.

That was hard for me to process, and my brain hadn't been meddled with for the past quarter of a year…

"I can't do this without you." I told him, revealing my own vulnerability.

He nodded, accepting this.

"Emmett, we're not awful people because we can't go be happy about this right now." I ignored his unnecessary apology and told him what I so desperately wanted someone to confirm to me.

This seemed to be what he was wanting too and he exhaled.

"We aren't bad people…" He repeated. "We just need a second… Then, we'll go in there… And, we'll be fine. We just need a second."

I nodded.

"It's just… It's hard when things work out for everyone else but us." I said, the words tasting terrible in my mouth.

"Yeah." He exhaled. "Yeah, it is."

"And being back here makes me… makes _us_ wonder if it ever will… work out for us I mean…" I swallowed nervously and a chill went down my spine.

I couldn't do this much longer…

"Yes." Emmett agreed, his eyes starting to soften.

He needed to be understood, and in a cosmic, otherworldly way I did understand him. He just needed to be reminded.

I took a deep inhale through my nose, running my hands up his thighs and back down to his knees as I thought about what I was going to say.

"I think it'd be easier to just finally accept that it won't." Emmett finally said something before I could, his eyes dark.

He was wrong… It _wouldn't_ be easier…

"Don't say that." I responded quickly, my legs feeling a lot like Jell-O so I was glad I was kneeling.

My stomach dropped through to the depth's of earth's core.

He didn't respond, and he clenched his jaw. He was resolute, and he wasn't taking it back.

It made me nervous.

"We're the strongest people in the world, you know." I said, running my hands through his hair and finally tucking a curl behind his ear.

"I know. I just wish we didn't have to be." Emmett said, honesty pouring out of him in this moment as his eyes melted into mine.

"Me too." I sighed. "But, let's go in there. We can be happy for them. We just had to be sad for ourselves for a second…"

Emmett agreed.

"I just need one more second." He said in a ghostly tone, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to mine.


	59. Girl

_HAPPY READING PEOPLE!_

 _Thank you so much for all your love and support. I love reading what you think is going to happen!_

 _It really makes me SO HAPPY to get feedback, so pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think if you can!_

 _I've been writing a little ahead of myself so I need to fill in the gaps... I love hearing your ideas!_

 _ **Is there anything else you guy want to see more of or have me dive deeper in on their past? Please let me know in your reviews!**_

* * *

 _ **Girl - SYML**_

 _Girl, perfectly her, broken and hurt_

 _Soft and asleep in the morning gray_

 _Shake off the night and don't hide your face_

 _The sun lights the world with a single flame_

 _I want you to see this_

 _I want you to see this_

 _Today and all of your days, I'll wear your pain_

 _Heal what I can in your troubled mind_

 _Sometimes our bodies will hurt for some time_

 _And the beauty in that can be hard to find_

 _I want you to find it_

 _I want you to see this_

 _So run, wake up and run, my little one_

 _I wanna tear down these walls that can't hold you inside_

 _And rip out the cords and uncover your eyes_

 _We'll make our escape in the dark of night_

 _I need you to see this_

 _Girl_

 _You'll see the world and you'll come to learn_

 _That falling in love is a strange work of art_

 _All of your battles will shape who you are_

 _And know that your scars are my favorite part_

 _I want you to know this_

* * *

 **Robert**

 _Present_

I watched my son grow into a father before my very eyes, and it was a joy to behold. He was a man of honor and courage and all the best things a man can be. He was the very best of the world because this little girl needed him to be.

She was beautiful… She was absolutely beautiful - so tiny - but so beautiful that it took my breath.

"Hey, pretty girl." I cooed down to her over Elizabeth's shoulder.

Clarke's little eyes blinked and I hoped she'd see the very best of the world with those eyes.

She yawned with that perfect little mouth and Elizabeth giggled with happiness. I felt my smile seem to stretch further and further with each passing moment.

"Hi baby! You're so beautiful! Yes, you are!" I changed my voice as any person would to that special tone reserved for precious babies and sometimes puppies.

"She's got your nose." I told Bella with a grin.

Bella nodded, mirroring my grin. She was glowing with pride and even though her eyes were tired and her hair stuck to her neck with drying sweat, she'd never looked more beautiful.

I knew it was irrational to say that Clarke looked like Bella at this moment because she was just an infant and just looked like an infant, but I remembered how it felt when someone told me that Rosalie had my smile. It was far from true, but when I'd held my little girl the day she was born and I heard the perfect little thing in my arms could have a piece of me on her like a stamp, it filled my heart with a joy and a pride like I'd never known.

I looked down on this little girl for a lingering moment, then my eyes darted to the door. I knew my little girl was right outside of it, and I knew that she wasn't waiting outside to just give us some time privacy.

She was hurting, and this was hard for her.

When she hurt, I hurt, and even in this joyous moment, I couldn't ignore Rosalie's pain.

Rosalie was trying especially hard today, which I commended her for. She wasn't selfish as she once had been, and she genuinely hoped for the happiness of another person.

She'd grown up so much in such a short amount of time because she'd had to. But, now, I watched her genuinely care for Edward and Bella and even Elizabeth's enjoyment of this very special time in their lives.

Rosalie was changing rapidly, though I wished terribly that it hadn't been caused by the tragedy she so deeply felt in her life.

She was just 23, but she'd grown up.

She was grown now…

My nose burned, and I thought about a time not so long go that I'd looked down on Rosalie being this small - well, not quite this small - but a newborn baby nonetheless.

I cleared my throat indiscreetly to fight back the threatening tears and I watched Edward with a smile, talking to his mother and Bella with a newfound confidence. Edward had undergone a metamorphosis and never again would he be the same.

My stomach dropped and I swallowed before I prayed that Edward would never have to look into his daughter's eyes and see heartbreak.

That is the worst part of being a father, or being a parent really, seeing your child in pain and not being able to do anything to control it. I had seen heartbreak in Rosalie's eyes more times than I cared to count, and each time it never got any easier. Honestly… it got harder.

Then, the door opened.

I had a feeling this would be even harder.

Rosalie was standing up straight with Victorian posture, her neck long and her shoulders pushed down like I knew she did when she was trying to present a strong front. The back of her teeth were clenched together as she shot a brilliant smile into the room.

"Hey baby." I greeted her, and Rosalie immediately and uncharacteristically hugged straight to my side.

I reveled in any moment she let me hug her, so I squeezed her tight and kissed her temple hoping that in this moment of affection she could feel loved and supported. But, I also just hungered for her presence because… because I missed her. It had been so long, and being here made me think about when the beautiful young woman next to me was just my little baby girl.

She wasn't a little girl anymore, but as she looked up at me in this moment, I saw those brilliant blue eyes I'd seen on the face of my one precious baby.

I wanted to protect her from all the harm of this world, but I couldn't.

I couldn't and it killed me, but it just made her stronger.

Emmett's eyes were red and there were dark purple rings around them. His eyes were so dark they looked black, but when he saw the baby in Elizabeth's arms it was like color and life had returned to his face and he smiled a thousand watt smile just like his wife.

"God, she's… beautiful." Emmett marveled at the little girl, taking time with his words. "No thanks to you, Edward."

Edward laughed fully, and the room was immediately aware of Emmett's vivid energy. The sun seemed to get brighter pouring in from the windows, and the colors of the room seemed more vibrant.

Rosalie chewed on her bottom lip, trying not to look amused.

You would've never known the two of them were harboring intense heartbreak if it weren't for the stain of Rosalie's tears on Emmett's collar and the way Emmett's right hand wound around the arm of his chair grasping til his knuckles turned white.

They were both using every bit of energy they had left to craft the functioning happiness they were wearing for us in this moment.

"I hope it's alright we're here." Rosalie over-enunciated her words to Edward and Bella so it was obvious she'd been practicing in her head a thousand times. "I know you must be exhausted."

Her big, expressive blue eyes darted toward the baby in Elizabeth's arms.

I always could see straight to the bottom of the deep blue pools of her eyes.

"No, please. I'm so glad you're here." Bella smiled happily, reaching out one of her hands. "Elizabeth said you never left. Thank you."

"Since we haven't showered I was sure our smell would give us away." Emmett tried to joke lightly. "Elizabeth wouldn't have even had to say anything."

Bella laughed, and I saw how much having Emmett and Rosalie around relaxed her.

That was new…

Emmett and Rosalie's presence didn't really ever relax anyone. Usually the moment they walked into a room, all the oxygen left it.

"Em…" Rosalie sighed at his attempt at joking, then she directed her attention back to Bella as Emmett made it to her side.

Rosalie smiled now, knotting her fingers together nervously, but still her smile was genuine toward Bella.

Bella exhaled, laughing at something Emmett had said to her after he kissed her on the cheek.

"If you two don't want visitors, don't hesitate to…" Rosalie began, reknotting her fingers together, her eyes darting from the baby in Elizabeth's arms to Bella to Edward to Emmett and back again.

"Rosalie." Edward stood from Bella's side, seeming to protest what she was going to say.

"We want you here." Bella said sincerely, her eyes meeting Rosalie's and seeming to communicate a thousand things.

Rosalie nodded, and I saw her clench her jaw like she did when she didn't know what to say and was afraid of something slipping out of her mouth.

"Yes, we want you here." Edward told her just as sincerely. "We _need_ you here."

"Okay." Rosalie swallowed.

Rosalie and Emmett both exhaled from the same lungs, exchanging a look.

"Thank you, Rosalie. For… For everything. Everything's alright because of you." Edward said, his eyes heavy on her before he hugged her tightly.

Rosalie didn't even stiffen as he hugged her, and I watched her close her eyes as she pressed her hands into his back.

She didn't say anything but as he pulled back and kissed her on the cheek, she smiled.

"Yes, Rosalie… I was so afraid… I was so scared." Bella started, her eyes lingering on Clarke.

"I know." Rosalie breathed, still looking at Edward. "But, it's all okay, now…."

"Rosalie." Emmett sensed the pain in her before I even noticed the glassy look to her eyes.

She took his outstretched hand.

"Do you wanna meet her?" Elizabeth asked, her smile beaming and proud as she offered the bundle of perfect pink to Rosalie.

Rosalie nodded, a look in her eye that made me have to take a deep breath. Joy like I'd never seen filled her eyes and the brilliance of her smile was breathtaking as she reached both of her hands out expectantly.

She received that perfect bundle of pink ever so carefully, Rosalie's beautiful blue eyes flying over her face.

"Hi." She whispered, her voice changing and rising in pitch so it dripped with saccharine honey.

Time shifted, and I saw Rosalie not as she was in this moment, but as she was once -dancing on my feet as a six year old girl with a missing front tooth and wild curly blonde hair.

Before any of this, she was a spirited, happy little girl. She was full of love, quick to forgive, and always ready to laugh.

Before all this, before she knew heartbreak… Who could she have been?…

Who would she be in another dimension?

She had grown up in darkness, twisted in the shadows as she tried to reach for any spillage of sunlight.

How could Rosalie have grown if she hadn't been stunted by tragedy?

She was just fifteen years old when I realized I couldn't protect her. I couldn't take care of her. I couldn't shelter her and shield her from the horrors of this world.

The worst day as a father is when you first realize your daughter is experiencing heartbreak and you can't do anything about it.

"Edward told you her first name's Clarke right?" Bella began, ripping me from my reverie.

Rosalie shifted her weight between her feet, swaying slightly as she rocked the baby in her arms.

Rosalie nodded, not looking up from her.

"Well, I insisted her middle name…" Bella started, and I looked over at her expectantly.

Rosalie's eyes came up now.

"Her middle name is Rose." Bella told her. "After you."

Rosalie's bottom lip trembled and her eyes flooded with something I couldn't process, but it still made tears push at my eyes, threatening to come out.

"Really?" Rosalie breathed, her voice small and shaking.

"Wh-hy?" Tears started to pool in her eyes.

"Because… Because we love you, and she'll love you." Bella said tenderly.

"No… I just…" Rosalie stuttered, obviously taken aback.

Emmett wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, but I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't looked over at him. I would've missed it if I had blinked.

I looked away.

"I don't know what to say." Rosalie breathed.

"It all happened so fast, and we hadn't picked out a name before today… but.. but we knew it was right. It was just… perfect." Bella smiled.

Rosalie took a deep breath, and looked from Bella's eyes down to the face of a little girl with her name.

I saw love in her eyes that I'd never imagined.

"Clarke Rose." Rosalie smiled, then cleared her throat to deny an emotional release.

"Do you wanna see her?" She asked Emmett, turning to him and asking to redirect it seemed.

Rosalie seemed reluctant to let go of the baby, but seemed to need to take a breath.

I didn't blame her. That was so incredible of Bella and Edward to do that. I know it meant a lot to Rosalie.

Emmett grinned excitedly as Rosalie got closer, then his smile started to fade as he looked down at his right hand where it rested on his thigh.

He lifted his hand slowly and tiredly, and I could see the exhaustion in his shaking muscles.

Emmett frowned slightly, looking down.

"You've got her?" Rosalie asked tenderly.

He looked up into Rosalie's eyes and shook his head. It looked so private I felt bad for watching and intruding.

"No." Emmett answered, his eyes full of emotion I couldn't process but Rosalie understood perfectly.

"It's okay." Rosalie knelt carefully next to him.

"I can't…" He swallowed.

Rosalie was frozen, her eyes darting over his face.

"It's okay."

The two of them made a public show of smiling and cooing down to the baby in Rosalie's arms, doting over the little princess, but there was an exchange just beneath the surface that the two of them kept going privately.

"Rose?" He started under his breath in hopes no one else could hear. "Will you help me?"

Emmett never asked for help, and if I hadn't read his lips I wouldn't have even known he'd asked that.

Rosalie nodded, swallowing, but I watched her bottom lip start to tremble.

"Look at how pretty she is." Emmett grinned, making me think I was imagining there was something going on.

"I know. There's never been a prettier baby in the world." Edward boasted, wrapping an arm around Bella and kissing her cheek.

As a couple of rogue tears pushed out of Rosalie's eyes discreetly, I knew I wasn't imagining things.

"I'm just… tired is all." Emmett mumbled just to Rosalie.

Emmett's left arm was in a sling because he'd broken his collarbone in a bad fall a couple weeks back, and now his non-dominant right hand was shaking ever so slightly trying to make up for it all.

"She's going to be so so smart…. just like her mother." Emmett teased Edward.

Edward had taken all of Emmett's cases. Even before law school graduation, they'd all but given Edward Emmett's job.

The job Emmett had worked for since he was fresh out of law school at 23…

I couldn't imagine how Emmett felt about that, but I also couldn't imagine all the stress that put Edward under.

Rosalie helped shape Emmett's right arm so she could put Clarke in it. She held her hands mostly still under the baby, knowing that Emmett couldn't support the weight of the infant himself.

She was careful and held tightly and carefully to the baby so she could support the weight for him. Emmett looked down on the precious little girl and then back up to Rosalie.

"I'm sorry." I thought I heard him whisper this when his eyes met Rosalie's, but I couldn't be sure.

That's when the tears that were once just seldom on her cheeks were now a steady stream.

"It's my turn." Edward said, seeming to sense the exchange between Emmett and Rosalie just as I had.

Edward took the baby now, and Rosalie withdrew her hands like she'd been touching something too hot.

"Rose…" Emmett started, torture in his voice.

She kissed him on the cheek seeming to signal she wasn't talking further on the subject, but he frowned looking over at her.

"I'm really hungry actually." Edward said aloud. "Bella probably wants something too. Rosalie, will you go grab us something from downstairs?"

Rosalie nodded wiping her cheek with her fingers swiftly, then she gave a little smile.

"I'm starving. I'll go with you." Emmett told her.

"No, it's okay. I'll just grab you something." She sighed pleasantly.

Emmett tried to find her eyes but she denied the contact in case he could see what she was thinking.

"Dad, I'm going to need help carrying things so…"

"Of course." My response was too quick.

I watched Emmett's face fall, but she leaned over and kissed him.

I looked away.

He knew though she was trying to be alone for a second, but for some reason she was wanting to be alone with _me_.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled to her, but I barely heard it.

"Why?" Rosalie brushed his hair off his forehead tenderly. "Don't be."

His hair had gotten long, and his scars had healed, but the worst wasn't over.

"We'll be back." Rosalie announced to the room, and made sure I was coming with her.

I followed her out of the room. As the door closed behind us and she started down the hall, I could tell she was on a mission.

I took a deep breath, matching my stride to hers so I walked beside her.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, noting that her pace had increased and we were walking faster and faster.

Her big blue eyes were focused straight down the hallway.

"It's just going to take some time." I started vaguely, hoping that this would heal the intensity in her eyes that I knew was just masking heartache.

Then, she grabbed my arm and tugged me off to the side.

It was a far less busy hallway and we were alone. It was quiet, almost too quiet as we sat down on a bench by an elevator.

I waited for her to speak, and she took a deep breath, nervously knotting her fingers together.

"Daddy…" Rosalie whispered, and I could hear in her voice that she really wanted to talk about something difficult.

"What is it?" I asked, trying hard to fight the urge to reach out and brush her hair behind her ear.

She bit her lip, and furrowed her brow before finally reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I… I don't know what to do." Rosalie whispered, and I noticed how much whatever this was about broke her heart as she looked up to me.

"Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help." I started.

Rosalie paused, keeping her eyes down at her hands now.

I worried that I'd said the wrong thing, then she finally spoke up.

"I don't know." She exhaled. "If I say it out loud…"

Rosalie swallowed, and I noticed she was trembling so whatever this was scared her.

I waited.

"I'm afraid." Rosalie admitted. "I'm afraid I'll…"

Still, I waited as she sorted her words.

"I'm afraid I'll mess it up…" Rosalie looked over at me, genuine apprehension in her eyes.

"Take your time." I tried to comfort her.

"I don't _have_ time." Rosalie's face went white at this.

"Sure you do. You have nothing but time. Is that really what's bothering you?" I stroked her hair.

At this she started to cry, and for the first time in a long time, she curled up to my side and ducked her head to my shoulder.

"Shhh… Hey, it's okay." I cradled her, closing my eyes as I held her tight.

"No, it's not." She sobbed. "I've... never kept anything from him."

"Rose…" My heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

"But... But I think it'll upset him..." Rosalie cried. "Especially if... If it doesn't..."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"His doctors also said never to overwhelm him with change... Because he... can't..."

"You should give him more credit than his doctors do." I directed, hoping she'd be able to see I was speaking in love.

Her bottom lip trembled and she nodded.

"I just… I feel so _alone_ …." She sobbed."I'm doing this _alone_..."

I stroked her hair.

"Rosalie, do you need more help with him? We can hire…" I began.

She shook her head, pulling back for a second before she tossed her arms around my neck continuing to cry.

"No… I…" She tried to speak through the tears, but she was hyperventilating. "It's just… I can't…"

"I know." I nodded.

"I just miss… I just…"

"You miss him." I said, my heart aching.

She nodded.

"But… He's right there… He's just _different_ … But…"

I didn't know what to say.

"Just let it out." I told her calmly. "You can cry."

That seemed to be all she needed to hear and for what seemed all at once just like a century and a millisecond, my little girl sobbed into my arms.

"He can't hold a baby…" She said, this seeming to be the most heartbreaking thing she'd said today.

Her purple eyes were desperate as she looked at me like I could fix everything. Still, after all this time, and after all the instances I'd failed her and this world had brought her tragedy I couldn't take away, she looked at me with faith.

"Rosalie, he's just _tired_." I tried to comfort her.

She didn't say anything.

As a couple silent minutes passed, she gathered herself, and she'd begun to calm down, but still she stayed close to me.

"Daddy?…" She started like she'd done a thousand times when she'd had a nightmare.

"What is it?" I asked, pulling away to look at her.

"I have to show you something…" She darted her eyes down and dove her hand deep into her purse.

She eventually pulled out a folded up envelope.

The envelope looked like it'd been folded and refolded and unfolded a thousand times.

The envelope had her name on it, and a doctor's name.

It was a medical record.

"What is this?" I pushed, my eyes going wide as she handed me the envelope.

A single tear raced down her cheek, and she turned her gaze away as I unfolded the piece of paper.

Before I could even read the first word, she spoke.

"Dad…" She breathed. "I can't do this..."

I read the words on the page from her doctor over and over again, still barely processing them, but then… Then, I did, and my heart felt like it was being wrung out like a wet towel.

"Oh, Rosalie…" I threw my arms around her, cradling her to my chest as she cried. "You can... And, you have to..."


	60. Love Like This - E

_Just because I love you! ;)_

 _Emmett's POV for this chapter. I wrote this chapter really early in the process, and I am relieved to get here and share it with you!_

 _I will answer any questions you still have in the next chapter's Author's Note. Let me know what you think!_

* * *

 _ **Love Like This - RY X**_

 _I'm on the low_  
 _to call my soul_

 _the breath will melt_  
 _and you're out alone_  
 _If this is what you want_  
 _Take it from my bones_  
 _Write your name in blood_

 _Let it all go_  
 _'Cause love like this won't grow_  
 _The calm is when_  
 _For the games I've played_

 _My mind was made up_  
 _But your breath still messin' on_  
 _If this is what you want_  
 _Take it from my bones_  
 _Write your name in blood_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_  
 _Let it all go_

 _'Cause love like this won't grow_

* * *

 **Emmett**

 _Waking Up_

There wasn't a cloud to taint the impossible blue sky. I stretched my arms out wide, taking a deep breath and feeling unbelievable warmth radiate from all around me.

The sun felt different on my skin because it _was_ different.

The sun shone differently here in Cuba.

The white sand shone like diamonds all around us, but the turquoise water sparkled and stole my attention.

I looked out on the endless shoreline, and instead of fear I was filled with peace.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd looked at the ocean and felt peace.

Before, all I could think about was the way my throat had burned… _burned_ as I coughed up salt water. All I could think about was the way turquoise water turned black and ominous at night, so you couldn't fathom what had rocked the boat or made a sound rippling through the water next to you.

I'd never known darkness like the darkness at sea.

But now, light shone so bright that not a single shadow could exist.

Her big blue eyes were brilliant and glistened with her smile; her radiant face upstaged the sun.

Sunlight had kissed her cheeks in a way that it hadn't before, and freckles dotted her nose.

Energy snapped in me like a coil and I took off running toward the water.

It was the water I'd been born from, and the water to which I would return.

I pushed my legs faster and faster until I felt like I was flying.

I _was_ flying.

But, I wanted to get back to the ground because she was there.

They were both there, on the ground, on the sand, in the water.

They were home.

I was home.

I took off my clothes while I ran, knowing I wanted nothing between me and the water I was born from.

The water welcomed me back like a long lost friend and wrapped its arms around me. It squeezed tight, learning the shape of my body as it had grown over a score later.

But, it knew my soul.

It owned my soul.

So, it remembered.

I took a deep breath, letting myself sink further into the arms of the ocean.

They carried me, and back up to the surface I eventually came.

I reveled in the feeling of the saltwater racing down my back, then an even better sensation presented itself.

Five fingers wrapped around the side of my neck to turn my gaze toward the most beautiful girl this world's ever seen.

And somehow, in this moment she was even more beautiful than I'd previously known.

Her face glowed like an angel's.

She kissed me, salt on our lips, but her kiss was still sweet.

I wrapped both of my arms around her as the sea had done to me.

We all belonged to each other.

"Tell me again." I requested softly, touching my lips to hers as she wrapped her bare legs around my waist.

I kissed her and she kissed me back, but even deeper. I shivered as her legs unwound from me and she floated down to stand under my gaze.

I indulged in the unmatched splendor of her bared body, and took a deep breath, noticing as the water parted around her shape.

She smiled at me with a glisten in her eyes as she lead my left hand from her chest, down to her rounded stomach.

In just a couple moments, I got the answer I'd wanted, right against my fingertips.

It was miraculous, and so I beamed with a smile.

"Em… We're having a baby." Rosalie translated what I'd felt stirring within her center.

It was my little girl.

"I need to hear it again." I smiled at Rosalie. "Tell me again."

"We're having a baby." Rosalie kissed me then, and I closed my eyes, keeping my forehead attached to hers and my hands on her waist.

But for some reason, she started to feel farther away. I tried to wrap my arms around her, but it was like I was reaching when she was still standing so close.

I opened my eyes and everything was different.

"Emmett…" Rosalie's voice changed, and the sky changed with it.

Thunder rumbled around us, and the sky lit up with the crack of lightning.

I flinched at the sound, too terrified to worry about Rosalie seeing the weakness in me as soon as there was a storm on the ocean that took me right back to spending my thirteenth birthday at sea.

"Rosalie, come on!" I tugged on her arm, but everywhere I looked I couldn't see the shore.

It was ocean as far as my eyes could see.

"Rose…" I gulped, knowing she could feel me shaking with fear.

She didn't answer. She just stared at me.

The water was still only at our hips, but it felt like it was rising to my neck and I took a sharp inhale.

"Rosalie?!" I called with terror evident in my voice.

I was looking right into her eyes and trying not to notice that the turquoise water had turned black around us.

"Emmett, you can hear me…" Rosalie said desperately like she hadn't heard my response.

"Rosalie! We've got to get out of here! The baby!" I grabbed both of her shoulders, trying to get her to understand.

I looked down seeing… Her stomach was as flat and as empty as ever.

Then felt something coming up my throat, slithering like a snake.

I choked, doubling over.

I was coughing up salt water, drowning, and gasping.

Still, Rosalie looked at me like she could see right through me.

"Em? _Please_ … I need you." Rosalie begged.

It was dark, and my eyes fought to adjust so I could keep seeing her, but I was still coughing up salt water.

Why couldn't she see? Why couldn't she hear me choking? Had I ceased to exist? Was I nothing but an apparition? Had I died?

Where'd Colette gone?

Rosalie's hair wasn't this blonde before… It wasn't Colette.

This didn't make sense.

Was I sleeping? No. I was dead…

But then why was Rosalie here? She shouldn't have died…. She…

I could barely think about anything except my throat burning with salt water.

Was this hell?

It couldn't be…

But if this was death…

This wasn't death.

I grabbed Rosalie though I still couldn't stop drowning. I noticed that the liquid from my mouth had turned vermillion, and I wiped my hands over my mouth and throat, pulling them away just to see that…

 _it was blood._

"R-ose…" I gargled and coughed the words, trying to speak through the salt water turning to blood.

I couldn't breathe.

Rosalie's perfectly porcelain white skin was now tainted with the red blood sea. She took her hands out of the water and ran them over her white blonde hair, streaking it with the blood as she continued to look desperately for me even though I was standing right in front of her.

I couldn't say anything to make her understand. I touched my hands to my throat, clawing at it and wondering where the salt water blood in my lungs was still coming from.

"Emmett…" She seemed to beg for my response though I was trying to give it to her.

"Rose.. I… I'm right here…" I choked.

Still, she frowned, looking right through me.

"Edward, I can't." Rosalie looked to the side like she was talking to her brother in another dimension of space and time.

That's why she couldn't see me.

I gasped, trying to hold onto her though she slipped through my fingers like sand.

She had to help me. She had to.

Then, I reached for her face and before I could reach her she'd reached me. She threw her body against mine, and crushed my lips with hers.

I felt blood racing down my chin, but she held my face to hers, and as our lips parted for one another's she inhaled through her mouth to siphon every bit of the salt water from my lungs.

I wasn't drowning.

She'd taken a deep breath and given me every bit of oxygen I'd needed.

I pushed away from her to see her face, but I had to blink because the sun was so bright that it seemed to reflect from her golden face.

The sky was blue. The water was turquoise. The sand was white.

It had all been a bad dream.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

My gaze darted over Rosalie's face to read her eyes. I was still slowing my breath and processing the hellish vision I'd just experienced.

I noticed my head was hurting, and I put both hands on either side of my skull as if I could hold my brain in place.

"I'll tell you again." Rosalie responded happily, brushing my hair off my forehead.

"You just have to wake up…" She told me, looking at me with an idyllic look in her eyes, as she put her hands on top of mine, leading them to her stomach.

It was flat, but as soon as I put my hand on her stomach I was shocked with the electricity of life. It was like I'd put on someone's headphones and the song was already playing, but it was playing one hundred songs at once and they were all on fast forward. Only a few things were discernible, but I knew every bit of it was my little girl living a vibrant, perfect life.

I knew her familiarly. I knew her as myself.

I couldn't see anything, but I could hear everything.

My ears rang at such a high pitch that I closed my eyes tightly and scrunched my face at the incessant beeping that was taking over the soundtrack of my daughter's laugh, her singing, her playing and imagining and creating.

It began to be drown out by the beeping.

It sped up with each passing millisecond.

"Daddy?" I heard her voice as clearly as if it had been right next to me.

I gasped an inhale, snapping my eyes open.

Now, I was out of the water and I was running after Rosalie down the white sand. I had to catch her. I had to catch that little girl inside of her.

The sand stretched for miles and miles and we were the only ones here, like Adam and Eve at the start of the world.

My heart synchronized with the beeping sound that interrupted the sounds of my Cuban Eden and soon I couldn't even hear the calm waves crashing on the shore.

I ran just about 20 yards behind Rosalie, but I could hear her breath in perfect time with the beeping. It matched mine too, all the sounds speeding up as I pushed my legs faster and faster to try and catch her.

I followed Rosalie, and soon as I was close enough to almost touch her white blonde hair that was whipping wildly behind her in the ocean air, there was a bright white light and a sound like the shockwave from an atomic bomb.

The white light seemed to emanate from Rosalie and like the growing blast of the atomic bomb Eden began to disintegrate.

"Don't crowd him." I heard someone say.

They were so far away.

I strained to hear, frowning as I tried. My ears were hearing things from two different dimensions right now and I tried to focus on one and stop floating between my two bodies.

I could hear, but did I have eyes?

I did.

As the light came in, I saw white, silver, iron, plastic, wires, glass…

They were shapes and spaces that didn't mean anything.

It wasn't Eden.

Where was it?

To answer my mental question, a voice I didn't recognize spoke up.

"Emmett," They began with my name.

God?

"You're all right. You're in the hospital and you're being taken care of. You were in a car accident."

Car horns blared. Tires squealed. Metal crunched. Glass shattered.

People screamed.

Yes. That's right.

Then, I came back to my eyes. I could control them. Where was the noise coming from?

My toes.

I looked straight forward, then slightly adjusted to the left to see who'd spoken.

They looked like a Dali painting, all of their facial features melting to where they shouldn't have been before they arranged themselves into a recognizably human way.

"You've hit your head pretty hard, broken a dozen bones, and we've got you all patched up, but you're going to be okay." The nurse finished with a little smile.

As if on cue, my soul reconnected with my body and I wished that it hadn't.

All there was here was pain.

I swallowed. My throat was sore, like I'd been screaming for hours on end or I'd had a hot branding iron down it. I lifted my hand, but it was heavy like it weighed thousands of pounds.

It could have with all the wires and tubes I saw were connected to my arm.

Pain and soreness seemed to be injected into the arm I tried to hold up, and I cursed foully as my hand dropped back down to my side.

My voice was hoarse and raspy. It wasn't my own.

I closed my eyes, but the throbbing in my head and the pain radiating in my body only seemed to get worse when I closed my eyes.

"I feel like I got hit by a truck." I said, opening my eyes again slowly, still frowning as I processed being back into a body that was full of pain.

I heard a laugh from the other side of the room that was anciently familiar.

"Well you _were_ hit by a truck." A doctor in front of me chuckled.

No, I had drowned.

I had drowned in a sea of salt water and blood.

But then… Then, I was saved…

"My head…" I blinked slowly a couple times, trying to concentrate on what I'd just thought.

I'd drowned?

"I'll _bet_ your head hurts. We'll get you something for that."

Flashes of memory from the life I'd lived in my Cuban Eden flooded my mind, and I saw clearly the angel I was running after, following her, chasing her…

 _Rosalie._

I chased her now with eyes that couldn't focus, but once they found her beautiful face, they adjusted.

Her eyes had dark circles around them. Her skin was white as milk and her lips had lost their color. She looked different than she had in Eden, but she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in this dimension.

A smile slowly started across my cheeks.

"Hey Rose." I breathed.

"Hey." She exhaled happily, and I noticed color return to her face and tears start to pool in her eyes.

My eyes searched her face, her body, her being as she got closer and sat down on the bed next to me.

She took my hand, and all at once I was pulled back into this reality wholly.

I wanted to be here with her.

"You kept me waiting." She said against my lips and I reveled in the indulgent pleasure of her soft, perfect lips on mine.

"I'm sorry I stood you up at dinner." I responded, remembering every clear detail.

"Don't do it again." She insisted and I watched tears start to race down her cheeks like sad confetti streamers.

"Hey don't cry." I begged, hating the pain in her eyes more than anything in this world.

My groggy and uncoordinated hand made it at last to her cheek, and I stroked her velvet skin.

"You scared me, Emmett." Rosalie said, leaning into my touch and closing her eyes as she held my hand against her cheek.

Then, she kissed me again, her lips parting for mine.

Just like she'd sucked out all the salt water and blood from my lungs, now she breathed in every clear memory of my time in Cuban Eden.

I remembered.

 _I remembered._

My heart raced, and I excitedly looked over her face.

"I had the _wildest_ dream…" I started, trying to find the words to explain it all to her. "It was so real…"

"You'll have to tell me all about it." My Rosalie sighed, relief still evident in her face.

My heart raced and my mind swam as I tried to balance between the present an another world entirely.

If I could just reach out and grab hold of it… I had to bring it to the present.

I had to.

"You're doing to think I'm crazy…" I started, not knowing how to tell her.

She was pregnant. I knew it like I knew my own name.

The night of her birthday. I didn't understand time right now. It could've been years ago, or it could've been yesterday.

But, it was on her birthday.

When we'd laid in our bedroom floor and she'd asked me if I thought there was a baby in her perfectly flat stomach…

"But I think you…" I went on.

Then, as I tried with conviction and stubbornness to bring the Cuban Eden from my mind into the present, it began to slip away.

I chased after it, trying to grasp hold of it like the string of a kite in too much wind. I tried running faster in my mind. I tried jumping. I tried reaching.

I couldn't grab it, It was close though and I pushed further even though something in my mind told me it was dangerous.

The lights were flickering.

"Em?" Rosalie's voice was far away now, and panicked, but I didn't hear it.

I pushed deeper into the planes of my mind, trying to find it.

"Something's wrong." A doctor said urgently.

The beeping got faster and faster as I kept running. I was almost there.

I pushed and I pushed until my eyes rolled back into my head.

I didn't need then anyway.

My eyes didn't see the natural world of the present anymore. I had traveled back to the dimension of my perfect Cuba to find her.

She was here somewhere. I had to get her. For Rosalie.

For me.

I couldn't leave the baby alone here without Rosalie and I. She needed us.

But maybe even more than that, we needed her.

But, the world had started to dissolve.

Eden was dying.

The world had become desolate and empty, and now not even the white sand remained.

It was quiet besides the beeping getting faster and faster and faster along with my running.

I covered my ears, frowning and trying to focus. I tried to calm my mind and concentrate.

That's when I found it.

Her name is Esperanza.

 _Hope_.


	61. Howl

_Soooooo here's one of the longest chapters in the history of the story in Carmen's POV. I absolutely LOVED writing this chapter. I loved getting the chance to really dive deep into the characters, and thought this was a great chapter to understand and get to know some o them in a different light._

 _Review please!_

* * *

 ** _Howl - Jack Houlsby_**

 _This is the calm before the storm_  
 _This is the sea between the isles_  
 _And this ain't the time to chase the dawn_  
 _This is the time to count the miles_

 _So hold your fire and clear your mind_  
 _You won't get left behind_

 _I was a shadow on the screen_  
 _I was a drifter on the prowl_  
 _Now I'm the lights between the scenes_  
 _Now I'm the wolf that's yet to howl_

 _Yet to break out, yet to run_  
 _Yet to be outdone_

 _I was a shadow on the screen_  
 _I was a drifter on the prowl_  
 _Now I'm the lights between the scenes_  
 _Now I'm the wolf that's yet to howl_

* * *

 **Carmen**

 _Cuba 1980_

I tapped my pencil, figuring the numbers. I finally felt like I'd caught up at school after being out for a couple months. I'd always been good at school, until I got distracted…

Franco Velasquez was the perfect distraction. He was three years ahead of me in school and it seemed like every girl in Havana had a crush on him, but all of his attention was on _me_. It didn't take long, and I'd absolutely fallen head over heels for him.

But, of course I had. He was charismatic, smart, funny, charming, and had a smile that could light up a city.

And t _hose dimples…_

I was just fourteen and Franco was just sixteen when I found out I was pregnant. We were just kids. We were a couple of stupid kids, and now we had another human being's life in our hands.

Nothing about us was prepared for this.

My parents kicked me out of my house when they heard, so I decided to move in with Franco and his grandmother.

He'd never known his mother and his father had been killed years ago when Franco was just a little boy, and he didn't talk about him much. He said it was because he didn't know him very well. For him not to know his father very well though, he was a pretty good one to our baby.

Franco loved our son more than life itself, and his entire world revolved around this baby and I.

But, we were still young and we still had no idea what we were doing.

Especially me.

I had no idea how to be a mother. I'd turned sixteen just yesterday.

Our son was almost a year old now, and it was hard to believe that he'd survived this long honestly. I felt like I failed at least five times a day at being a mom. But, even for a baby he was unbelievably independent. I thanked God every single day for that one because it made it so much easier.

But, that's not to say this was _easy_ …

I stretched out my legs in the sand in front of me and looked toward the shoreline.

My heart stopped in my chest and time froze.

"No!" I shrieked, watching that head of raven black curls submerge under the white foam.

I thought a hundred things at once, and the next couple of seconds felt like they lasted a million years.

Em was just eleven months old and since he'd gotten confident with walking this past month, being a mother got a whole lot more complicated.

It was like he didn't realize he was a human baby. He was walking with the intention to fly.

Now, I couldn't get to him fast enough. I finally grabbed him out of the water and swung him into my arms as I sat down in the sand.

This was just going to confirm to every nosy eye on this beach that these two teenaged parents weren't ready for this.

My eyes were frantic as I watched him cough up all the water, but once he could, all he did was laugh.

His laugh was already contagious and full of life, and it echoed through the air.

I exhaled in relief, but I held him close kissing his head and closing my eyes at the smell of his salty, sandy hair.

He was okay. God, thank you. He was okay.

Then, a burst of protective anger shot through me and I whirled around to punish Franco with my glare.

He'd come up behind me, running to catch up to me from where we'd both previously sat.

"I… You…" I couldn't even talk I was so angry.

Franco kissed my cheek, totally and completely calm.

"I thought you were watching him!" I gasped, my still heart racing out of my chest. "You were _supposed_ to be watching him!"

"I was." He nodded.

"But, he…" I protested, finally giving in to the whining and wiggling from the child in my arms.

My _baby_ hated to be held, so I let him go reluctantly. I took it personally of course, thinking he hated _me_.

"Franco, he's just a baby." I protested.

"No, he isn't." Franco shook his head.

There was amusement in his big brown eyes as he looked toward our teetering baby, barely able to walk.

The first thing Em did when I let him go was run straight back to brave the crashing waves.

"He's not _just_ a baby." He added, nodding toward our son.

As he got knocked down and coughed up the salty water each time, a new glow entered those chocolate brown eyes and he'd stand up again, running back for another go.

"He's fine, Carmen." Franco said, his eyes fixated with unconditional, unmatched love and admiration on the little boy standing up to the entire ocean. "He's always going to be fine, and it'll be no thanks to us."

* * *

 _Two Weeks Later_

"I need you to talk to him." Rosalie said, her eyes wide as she closed the door behind her.

She'd called and asked if she could stop by. She said she was running errands.

She wasn't running errands all the way in Queens, so I knew it must've been important.

"He's… not listening to me anymore." Rosalie expanded on her need.

"What's going on?" I asked her.

"Well… He's just… He's… Yesterday, I caught him flushing his medication." Rosalie sighed nervously.

"Why?" I gasped.

"He said he can't think clearly. But, then he had a seizure on Thursday. He's fine now, but thank God, I was home because…" Rosalie scrambled, stress in her voice.

I worried incessantly.

Rosalie's purple eyes had matching purple circles around them.

I worried about her too.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" I asked, figuring she needed it.

"No, I'm fine." She shook her head. "And, there's another thing…"

Her eyes fell, like it was something she wanted to say, but couldn't.

"What is it?" I asked.

"He's _hellbent_ on going to Cuba."

"Ave Maria…" I sighed.

"It was like… Like a light switch. I saw his eyes change. He hasn't thought about _anything_ else but getting there for the last two weeks."

"Did he say why?" I finally asked, my heart racing.

He was looking for someone he wasn't going to find.

I wanted to protect Em, and Rosalie couldn't understand why I did what I did…

And even though Em had lived it, he couldn't understand either. He was still too young when we left Cuba, even though he insisted that he wasn't…

In that situation, he still had the perspective of a naive, impressionable child.

"With all that's happened, I think Emmett just wants to go home. He's been absolutely fanatical about it since my brother and his girlfriend had their baby, so I think…"

" _This_ is his home." I snapped.

"I know that." Rosalie responded evenly. "I only meant…"

"He can't get on a plane right now." I insisted. "And he'd be too far away to get help if he needed it and…"

Rosalie nodded.

"I know." Rosalie repeated, this time softer so my tone would calm in response.

I sighed. She did know. She took care of him every waking second of every day.

"He won't." She vowed. "I just don't know what to say to him"

"Then what makes you think I do?" I snorted.

This was anciently familiar, in the darkest part of my mind.

Rosalie was quiet now.

"Because… You… Well, you know that part of him and I don't." Rosalie swallowed.

I didn't respond because I didn't know what to say. I felt bad because I'd snapped at her.

"You can take your coat off, dear." I mentioned, noticing she still had her coat on, and partially because I didn't know what else to say.

So, I redirected.

"I'm fine." Rosalie protested.

"Let me turn the heat on then." I stood.

"No, really it's okay." She said.

Her cheeks were flushed though. I narrowed my eyes, but didn't give it much thought.

She was quiet, chewing on her bottom lip.

"He's not going to find his father." I finally said, my heart in my throat.

"He knows that." She assured me softly, her voice calm. "Emmett knows…"

My eyes looked over her face and I noticed my mouth had started to gape.

"He knows?… He knows what happened?"

Rosalie shook her head lightly.

Em just knew he wasn't going to find him…

He didn't know why.

I wrestled with my thoughts and emotions before I finally told Rosalie something I'd never told anyone.

"Em's father had made it to Miami a couple years after we did… He'd asked around enough to finally find someone that knew how to reach me." I was shaking, and no doubt Rosalie could see it.

Her face had turned white, and she looked sick, but I probably looked sicker.

"So, Franco called… He wanted to talk to Em… but… I told him I didn't think it was a good idea. It was a bad day. He was… fanatical… irrational… Yelling. Threatening me… He told me he was coming to get Em and Maria. He was going to take them from me…"

"But, he never came. He killed himself that night."

 _"_ Emmett's okay." Rosalie reached out putting her hand on mine.

I don't think she'd ever initiated contact with anyone, so the feel of her hand on mine shocked me and my eyes darted down.

"I know. I just…" My mind flooded with a tangle of thoughts I tried not to ever let myself think.

I had no choice.

"He's okay. Maria too." Rosalie spoke softly.

"They're okay because you sacrificed for them. You made the difficult decisions because you had to. You don't have to justify yourself."

"Emmett doesn't want to go back to Cuba because he feels like you failed him, or denied him something." Rosalie rationalized.

I tilted my head, unable to recognize the woman across from me. She was wise, and strong, and tender, and thoughtful.

She had metamorphosed before my eyes.

"I think… Well, he told me once that he'd only want to go back… when he got the chance to take… his _children_." Rosalie said, choosing her words carefully and speaking slowly.

Their childlessness was a pressing tragedy, and I took a deep breath, registering the sadness.

"Emmett thought it'd help fix the mistakes his father made… and the mistakes he made trying to separate himself from his father and Cuba that really made him feel separate from himself. I don't know if I'm making sense…" Rosalie admitted, running her hands through her hair quickly.

"Em said he felt like he'd cut off a limb or something severing himself from Cuba and all those memories." Rosalie went on. "I'd imagine with everything that's going on in his mind he's still trying to piece together his identity… He might think that's the answer?"

Rosalie seemed to be wrestling with this theory, but it seemed viable.

"He can't go…" I exhaled, not really knowing what to say.

I had no insight.

"Not now…" Rosalie qualified. "But, I don't know if he's going to stop wanting this… He was talking about it even before… before the accident."

"I can't think about him going back." I swallowed unable to hear anymore.

"You know… Em loves me the way he can because of you and Peter." Rosalie spoke, redirecting.

I felt a tear streaming down my cheek, and wiped it quickly.

"You showed him what that's like, and… and he admires you both so much."

"He's who he is because of you." Rosalie continued. "He's _okay_ because of you."

"Things could have been really bad for him. I can't even _imagine_ how bad, but… but you were exactly the mother he needed you to be to guide him." Rosalie spoke kindly. "And now…"

Who was she? She had changed immensely. She had bloomed like a spring flower after a long winter.

I was overwhelmed, and I had to look up at her again to make sure I was still talking to the same moody little girl posing as an adult that had somehow won the affections of my son, my first baby that had never truly been a baby.

It was Rosalie that sat across from me still.

I'd known she was strong, and I'd seen her display her strength and icy exterior again and again but I hadn't realized that under all of that…

She was tender, and soft, and kind…

This didn't seem to be a natural thing for her to showcase, and I watched her eyes dart down when mine fixated too long.

But before she looked away, I saw something in her eyes that looked… _maternal_.

"And… and now he can do better because you made sure he had the opportunities to _be_ better…" Rosalie took a deep breath, and I was transported to a time of my memories when I told him I wanted nothing more for him.

"He saved me. More times than I can count, and because you made things better for him, he could make things better for me too." Rosalie spoke softly, but her words were full of power and intention.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"And… And he has." Rosalie tripped over her words, and this was something she never did. "Time and time again."

I wondered what was right on the tip of her tongue that she wasn't saying.

I worried about her tangled mind, reaching for her face out of habit and she let me tuck her hair behind her ear.

"He's made things better for me, and… and now, we can make things better for our child… We _can_ …" She said, and with my hand on her shoulder, I felt her shaking like a leaf. "Because, you taught him how to do that."

"Emmett would be such a good father." She trembled.

It pained me, hearing the emotion in her voice and knowing that even with all that's happened, this was still a pressing tragedy in their lives that seemed to be felt even deeper than the rest.

"But… But he told me he doesn't want that anymore." Rosalie's eyes flooded with tears that she fought intensely, but it rose like water from behind a dam.

She took a deep shaky breath.

"Not… Not like this." She continued.

I could see her desire for a child radiating from the core of her being.

"He thinks that… that he's useless. He thinks he's not himself anymore so he can't be a good father. He thinks… that… that being… _inhibited_ like he is makes him a burden - that a child would only be able to see him as he needs to be taken care of… He thinks that he'll make a mistake. He thinks he'll lose control while his mind is still… _delicate_."

"He thinks that makes him like his father." I told her what she was really saying, wiping my eyes with my hand as I pulled away

"That's really why I need you to talk to him, Carmen." Rosalie murmured.

I nodded.

"Because… Because he has to…" Rosalie started to shrug her arms out of her coat now, extra slowly seeming to peel it off of her. "He has to… believe he can… do this… Because I _can't_ do this alone. I _won't_."

And, she wasn't talking about a distant possibility.

She was talking about right now.

"He doesn't know…" Rosalie said, intensity in her eyes as she pulled back. "And he can't know until he's ready…"

* * *

 _The Bronx -_ _1995_

"Get back here!" I called after Em, trying to reach out and catch his arm but he pulled away from me.

He stormed off, down the street, steam seeming to spill from his ears in anger. He was a teenager, and all of a sudden he was the absolute worst of what that meant.

He'd become difficult and distant and… just… angry.

And, I wasn't an idiot. I knew he was playing with drugs.

Everyone else here was…

I spoke in Spanish now, calling him in the language I knew he would respond to.

Then, he did. He whirled around, and punished me with a glare of dilated pupils.

He'd gotten in trouble at school for fighting again. His knuckles were always bloody these days, but this time there was a black bruise under his own eye.

He was picking fights with more dangerous people… It was like a game to him. He didn't like fights he knew he could win.

Which is why he was picking one with me right now.

"I can't believe you…" His voice was changing, getting deeper, and now it was like a growl.

"Listen. I know this is an adjustment…" I said, trying to start a conversation he never wanted to have.

"An adjustment?!" He scoffed, then made a face, mortified that his voice had cracked.

He was growing so fast and with every passing day he looked more and more like his father…

I could barely look at him sometimes.

"Em, we…" I started

"You can't get married." He said angrily, saying what he'd set out to say.

"I know you're upset… But I thought you liked Peter…"

"I do like him…" He held up his hand, but I saw the hatred and hurt in his eyes.

"Well… I think this will be good for us. He adores you and he wants to be a family… Don't you want that? We need to be a family again and… Maria's just a kid. She needs to grow up in a place that's not…" I trailed off.

Em turned away from me again both his hands coming to his temples.

He paced, and I watched his fuse burning to its end.

It was only a matter of time.

Then, he exploded, but not like I'd anticipated.

He burst into tears.

"What about dad?" Em said, furiously wiping his tears from his face.

His voice cracked, and my heart sank.

I reached out for him but he shrugged away from me.

"Em…" I tried again.

This time he reached both of his arms out for me like a child waking from a nightmare; the baby that hated to be held reached both of his arms out for me in the middle of the street, ducking his head to cry into my shoulder.

"I just thought… Maybe he'd come for me…" My sweet baby's body shook with his sobs.

It was the first time he'd acted like my child, and it took my breath clean out of my body.

He cried, and cried, and cried and I just wished I could say something, anything to get him to calm down and understand. Anything to take away the hurt.

"He's not coming, baby." I whispered, kissing his hair.

"Does he?…" He started through a staggered breath. "Does he not want to see me?… To know me?"

I swallowed, clutching him tighter.

"Em, you know that's not it." I spoke, not knowing if I was saying the right things. "He loved you more than anything in this world."

"Then why didn't he try?…" He sobbed.

"He did his best." I said, my stomach feeling empty.

"Then, it wasn't good enough." He pushed out of my arms now, wiping his eyes with his sleeves and turning his back.

"Come back here." I chased after him; he let me catch him but he wouldn't let me touch him and he wouldn't look into my eyes. "Listen… I don't expect you to understand right now, but one day you will. I do everything I do so that you can do better… than me, than your father… You can do better. And you will do better."

* * *

 _March 2, Present_

Since his last episode flushing his meds and having a seizure, his doctors had him so doped up he was unrecognizable.

But, at least he was taking his medication. I wouldn't be surprised if Rosalie weren't shoving the pills down his throat herself. But she was working so now it was my responsibility for the evening.

He focused on his plate pushing a grain of rice across his plate with his fork.

"The Yankees look pretty good this year." Peter remarked. "Just a couple weeks 'til season starts."

Emmett looked up now. His eyes had a thick glaze over them like he couldn't really see out and we could most definitely not see in.

His brow furrowed, then the corner of his mouth pulled into a smile that looked full of effort.

"Still a… Yankees fan all the way… out… here in Queens?…" Emmett's voice wasn't his voice and his words slurred.

His eyes had dark rings around them eternally, so I don't know why it shocked me so much to see, and he'd gotten so thin he looked like the addicts we lived next to in Hunt's Point…

"Through and through." He said. "And, I raised you to be too. Don't tell me you've gone and switched sides. I'd think you had brain damage." Peter joked with him.

Emmett's dimples reminded me of who he once was and who he could become again.

Who he _had_ to become again.

I couldn't look at him.

My eyes darted down.

"Funny." Emmett laughed throatily and tiredly. "My head's not… _that_ messed up at least."

"God, Dad!" Maria cackled, her laugh reminding me of a spring day. "That's terrible!"

It made my heart happy to see my family laughing around my table, but I half-heartedly scolded Peter nonetheless.

"I… think… it's funny." Emmett blinked slowly, smiling a little. "Every…body talks to me… like…"

He took a deep breath, and frowned seeming to look for a word but not being able to find it.

He looked at me, and spoke in Spanish like he wanted me to help him translate.

Spanish was easier to find in his muddled mind. I understood.

"Like they feel sorry for him. If they even talk to him at all." I looked over at Peter.

Oh, I loved him.

"You're not fooling anybody, kid. You're okay, better than ever." Peter expanded.

Emmett's eyes lit up for a brief second, then they turned glassy and grey again.

"What are the doctors saying?" I pushed.

"I… don't know. Usual things…" Emmett mumbled. "Like, I… _still_ have brain damage and… a damn useless pair of legs."

His sarcasm and dark attempt at humor wasn't missed, and Peter snorted but I could see it pained him.

"Did they say what caused your last seizure?" Maria asked.

"Lack of sleep… Would you believe... that's the _best..._ scenario?…" Emmett shrugged like this was commonplace.

"Rosalie told me you've started a new medication." I transitioned.

"You… mean… you couldn't tell… from me talking like… like… Rocky Balboa?" He joked with a little smile.

Peter laughed, but I just swallowed.

"Are things _better_?"

"I… mean…" He started in English, then finished in Spanish. "I'm not currently… seizing in the middle…. of the maternity wing of a hospital while people are trying to visit their new… babies and enjoy a perfect and tender… moment as a new family…"

"Well, then that's progress." I swallowed, trying to meet him in his lighthearted approach.

I worried about him.

"Not enough…." Emmett slurred. "It's… not enough… They're… worried about more seizures… but I think they… just want to keep me numb… But… I can… get better if…"

He swapped between English and Spanish so his sentence didn't come out quite right.

He frowned.

"Do you want some bread?" Peter offered, breaking up the tension.

Emmett blinked slowly, registering the words and looking down at the basket. He just stared at it, then looked up at Peter.

I asked Peter's question in Spanish, and Emmett looked at me. There was dark exhaustion in his eyes.

There was a weird look in his eye, and then he shook his head.

Peter looked over at me with wide, blue eyes. He seemed to acknowledge that maybe Emmett hadn't understood a single word he'd said.

I couldn't help but be transported back to a time when he hadn't… When Peter and I were working ourselves to death trying to pay for English tutors.

Even though Emmett hadn't understood Peter's English, it was something deeper than language that communicated love and support and safety.

Emmett took a deep breath, and I watched him sink down into his chair.

"I… _hate this_." Emmett spoke exclusively in Spanish, wiping his hands over his face as if he could suddenly change everything.

"I can't… think. I can't… remember, words… and… a week ago I was speaking French… and I had no… idea I even knew how, but… it was in there, deep down… I think… these doctors just… want me to stay like this… where I can't… I can't do anything… Just about the time.. One step forward… twelve… steps back…"

Anger was an easier emotion for him to express. Always had been…

Now it flashed through his eyes and through his veins so it radiated out of him.

"Em. Calm down." I put my hand on his arm.

His skin was ice to the touch even through his sleeve and I retracted my hand instantly.

"I'm… always… _cold_." He looked up at me, knowing what I'd noticed.

"I'll turn on the heat." I mumbled.

"It… won't do any good…" Emmett said, his brown eyes looking black.

"Em." Maria breathed.

His anger started to spark.

It wouldn't be too long before it caught flame.

"I'm always cold…" Emmett looked right at me. "There's no _sun_ … here."

"It's going to get warmer next week. It's supposed to be unseasonably warm - spring's coming early they say." I nodded, reaching out to run my fingers through his hair and around his left ear.

I spoke as calmly as I could, but he was breathing heavily.

Peter couldn't understand our words, but he watched our conversation to pick up clues.

I picked up though through the words unsaid that Emmett's mind was on Cuba.

"Rosalie said you want to go to Cuba." I started the conversation I didn't want to have, my heart racing.

Maria's focus shot up and her mouth gaped.

No doubt Peter understood we were talking about Cuba now. He'd stood to start collecting dishes. My eyes followed him, but he kept his eyes down.

Emmett's eyes though gained clarity and focus and his cheeks filled with color at the mention of Cuba. He exhaled, smiling in a release.

"Yes." He grinned, as happily as I'd seen in so long. "Yes, I…"

"You can't." Maria protested.

"Yes, I'm talking you out of it too." I nodded.

"It's… not up to you." Emmett frowned. "Or you."

"What does Rosalie think?" Maria raised an eyebrow.

"She… makes all… my medical… decisions… so isn't that… enough?" Emmett challenged.

"Em… no offense, but your mind is not in a place to make decisions like that right now." Maria raised an eyebrow. "That's why Rosalie's still making decisions for you. Because she _loves_ you and she knows you can't make these decisions for yourself."

"I… know… But, how long… is everyone… going to distrust _everything I think_?!" He took a deep inhale trying half the sentence in English, but it slowed him down. "How long… am I… going to be… written off as irrational because my… head's… messed up?…"

I didn't have an answer to that question, so I just looked away, but Maria wasn't phased.

"I don't know, but you're going to have to trust the people around you that love you and just want the best for you to give you good advice and guide you."

Emmett narrowed his eyes.

Maria switched course.

"Em, you're going to have to trust us." Maria said, taking his hand.

He pulled back.

"Then… trust _me_ …" Emmett said, the slightest bit of desperation tainting his voice.

Maria and I both remained quiet.

"I know… what I'm doing." Emmett assured us.

"Em, this is not one of those things that you can just _win_." She said. "You can't get better all at once through sheer force of will. You've got to listen to your doctors and take your medication like you're supposed to and _rest_ like you're supposed to."

I hadn't told her what Rosalie told me about him flushing his pills. I hadn't told anyone.

"She told… _you?_ " Emmett narrowed his eyes.

The only other person besides Rosalie that could hold their own in a fight with Emmett was Maria.

I think it was because he went soft on her. He couldn't completely rip his baby sister to shreds, but he looked at her in this moment like he could've.

"No one told me anything. I just know _you_." Maria shrugged, not intimidated by him.

The girls were with Lorenzo tonight going out to the movies, so Maria could be unfiltered.

But, that meant Emmett could too.

"You're really not listening to your doctors?" Maria raised an eyebrow.

She met his intensity.

"I… I am… Just…" Emmett mumbled.

"Look at your mother. Look at your _wife_ \- at what we've _all_ been through taking care of you. Don't you think you owe it to us to try your best and to take care of _yourself_?"

I took a deep breath. She'd said exactly the wrong thing. He misunderstood and misinterpreted it.

"Is it fair to Rosalie to put her in a position where she has to take care of you for the rest of her life?" I asked, trying to keep my voice soft to avoid upsetting him and rephrasing Maria's question.

"She wouldn't… have to. She could just… leave like you did." Emmett said sharply, and I knew how much this wasn't him by the dark look in his eye.

That collection of words slapped me in the face and I gasped.

When he lashed out, there was no bridling his anger. When he lashed out, he destroyed everything in his path.

"Hey!" Maria snapped, not letting him get away with it. "You acting like a total ass just proves my point. You're not yourself right now. You're insanely impulsive and thoughtless."

"Just… I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that." Emmett mumbled, wiping a hand over his face like it was going to change what he'd said.

"It's okay." I said, but my bottom lip trembled and I felt tears pushing at my eyes.

"I… didn't mean it." Emmett reached for me now, and I nodded, allowing him to take my hand. "I'm… sorry…"

"I… just… worry… so much…. It feels like… it's never ending… Never ending…" Emmett said, his huge brown eyes looking over me.

I warned Maria with a look in her direction not to say anything.

I waited on him.

"Today… at the hospital… The doctors introduced Rosalie… and I to a couple…" He swallowed.

"His… name is Grant Butler… He had a similar brain injury to me… three years ago." Emmett began, his eyes wide and full of an unreadable emotion.

"He was walking, and… and he _looked_ okay… Great even... I think they… introduced me to him to… make… me feel better…" Emmett slurred, putting his elbows on the table and dropping his head to his hands.

"But… but it didn't…" Emmett sighed.

"He and his… wife had… a little boy… with them… He was five…" Emmett recalled, his eyes far away in the memory. "His… son… doesn't remember what his… father's voice… sounds like… It's… aphasia… This guy can't… form words…"

I waited, watching the pain in his eyes. Even Maria didn't say anything.

"After that seizure I remembered… When I woke up… from the accident… the first thing I remember was… I had… such a vivid dream…" His voice trailed. "It was so… clear it could've been real… But, I was… _running again_ … and Rosalie and I were in Cuba but it wasn't Cuba it was… _better_ … and… and she was having a baby…"

My heart raced in my chest and I looked away, thinking about the hollow feeling rising in my core. Tears started to race down my cheek.

"We… had everything… we wanted." Emmett said with an exhale. "We were free… and… and it felt like home.."

Freedom and home to him were one and the same.

" _This_ is your home now." I nodded strongly, standing up to him.

He always tested to see if someone could rise to him. It was very important that I did in this moment especially after he was open and honest. If I knew him like I thought I did, I just had to push back and prove a worthy opponent before he would lay down his weapons.

"I… know. I do know that…" Emmett agreed tiredly, frowning as he tried to dig deeper into a mind that was a stranger to him.

I was right.

"I just… I can't explain… I just…" He went on.

"Em, listen to me." I started.

He waited, but I didn't know how I was going to continue.

"You had such a beautiful, wonderful life with Rosalie before what happened… and before the accident. You really did." I said, being careful of his scars as I tucked a piece of wild hair behind his ear.

"But now… Now you, you still do have a beautiful life ahead of you… But it's going to be different. A different kind of beautiful."

He didn't like hearing this.

"You have a different brain now. You're still the same person at your soul, baby, but listen… You're going to be different, so you have to let yourself figure out what that means."

He clenched his jaw.

"Rose… and I said we… are going to start over… and have another wedding once… all this has passed… Clean slate…"

"Maybe that's why you were dreaming about Cuba… It's time for a new start again…" Maria suggested, making sure her spitfire voice sounded a little more tender to him.

Emmett swallowed, his eyes darting to her.

I waited for him to spat off something awful to her, but it never came.

Maybe he saw that she was right.

"I'm sorry… for earlier." He apologized again, furrowing his brow. "I just… I want to go to Cuba because… I can't help but think… I'm… looking… for something… And… it's…. there… I can't… explain what it's like inside my head… right now…"

Both his hands came to either side of his head like he was trying to steady his brain.

"It's… it's like I'm… trying to build a puzzle, but I don't… have all the pieces."

"Em, you don't have to figure out who you are going to be all at once… And, I don't think that's how _anybody_ figures it out. It's always going to be piece by piece." I suggested.

He nodded.

"What if I can't ever… find the pieces?" He said.

"You will." My throat got tight.

"Where?" He asked, more receptive now.

"One day when you laugh at something you forgot was funny. When you watch a Yankees game with your dad. When Rosalie looks at you from across the room, and you remember falling in love with her so you do it all over again. When you watch your nieces start middle school and they hate math just as much as your sister did." I breathed.

Em smiled at this, _his_ smile.

"You _were_ … terrible at it." He teased her.

"Hey, I wasn't trying to get into any fancy schools." Maria rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't… either." Emmett's dimples showed.

My heart filled.

"Yeah, I forgot you're the guy that got into the Ivies on accident." Maria tossed up her hands.

Emmett laughed tiredly, then sighed.

"What if… I don't… like who I become…" Emmett entertained the thought. "What… if Rosalie doesn't?"

"Oh, believe me. If she hasn't run for the hills already…" Maria teased. "I'm joking… I mean, Emmett she worships you. Surely you see that."

He looked away.

"Emmett, Rosalie never loved you because of what you could _do_ for her. You know that, don't you?" I checked. "She's far too independent for that."

He narrowed his eyes.

"I think… I know… my wife." He responded shortly.

He didn't like that and wrinkled his nose.

"It's just… I know how much you value honesty and people being direct with you, not wasting any time."

"Yes?" He nodded.

"I think you've been unfair to Rosalie." I began. "A marriage is 50/50 yes, but sometimes it's got to be 70/30, 40/60, whatever, because you just can't make it to 50/50 for whatever reason. Right now, 50/50 is not possible, and you _can_ let her pick up the slack. It doesn't make you like your father."

His face turned white then, and Maria looked at me with wide eyes.

"What… about that… doesn't make me like him?" Emmett's voice was low and his eyes were deep. "You had to _carry_ him, Mom. _I_ … had to carry him… for so long…"

"And, I am so sorry you had to shoulder that burden, Em. I am." I spoke candidly. "But, remember I told you, everything I do is so that you will have the opportunity to do _better_."

He swallowed.

"You can do better than your father by _trusting_ Rosalie. Your father didn't trust me, Em. He didn't trust me when it counted, but you can do _better than that._ You can trust Rosalie when you can't trust your own mind. You can trust her to make the right decisions, to have your back, and to fight for you. You know she will. And, you know she'll do a good job of it."

His eyes remained down at his hands, but he nodded.

"Rosalie's not afraid of you. She's incredibly strong, capable, and probably the only person on earth that can rise to be your equal. You know deep down you can trust her." I expanded.

He blinked, looking up to me.

"You've always been like a force of nature Em, since you were a baby. You never crawled, or walked, or even ran, you always flew. You were always so _strong willed_ and…"

Maria smiled hearing me talk about childhood. Em was already basically an adult when she was born. At nine years old, Em was already the strongest person in our world. He had the power and he knew it, and by the time Maria was old enough to remember everything - Em was already the man of our house. His presence had always been domineering and powerful to Maria, and he always made her feel safe.

But, there was no one that made him feel that way.

"But, your father and I denied you safety because you were always so strong we forgot you probably needed it…" I whispered.

He looked up at me now.

"We didn't give you a place to feel protected. We went back on our word. You couldn't trust us, and we betrayed you…" I swallowed. "We were supposed to be your parents, but we couldn't handle it."

Emmett sat back, staring at me with wide eyes.

"But Rosalie can. She can take it. She can take you, and all you are. She can take it. She doesn't misunderstand you. She will not betray you. Rosalie can take it."

"I just never… wanted her… to have to." Emmett mumbled.

"I know…" I swallowed.

"But, that's part of doing better… _Trust_ her, Em…" I said tenderly.


	62. I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)

_Here's a chapter in Rosalie's POV!_

 _The next one will be hers then... I think the end is near..._

 _Review please!_

* * *

 ** _I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes) - The 1975_**

 _I bet you thought your life would change_  
 _But you're sat on a train again_  
 _Your memories are sceneries_  
 _For things you said but never really meant_  
 _You build it too high to say goodbye_  
 _Because you're not the same as them_  
 _But your death, it won't happen to you_  
 _It happens to your family and your friends, I pretend_

 _And I always wanna die sometimes_  
 _I always wanna die sometimes_

 _You win, you lose, you sing the blues_  
 _There's no point in buying concrete shoes, I refuse_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 _March 6, Ash Wednesday_

"Remember You are Dust, and to dust you will return."

His thumb put pressure on my forehead as I was reminded of my emptiness, fragility, and mortality - its shape though, reminded me of what is eternal and I looked over at Emmett receiving his own ashes.

He'd come to Mass.

I'd told him I was going, just to let him know. He had just nodded, but this morning as I was putting my hair up, I'd noticed he was tying his tie.

I watched his eyes in their exhaustion before I stood from where I'd been kneeling, then we both made our way back to the back of the congregation at St. Patrick's. I kept my focus down, but as I walked next to his wheelchair I was again reminded boldly of the passing world, and I shivered.

As I sat down at the end of the pew and his wheelchair sat at the end of the aisle, I took his hand.

He looked down at my fingers interlacing with his during prayer, and I felt my heartbeat get quicker in my chest.

I couldn't hide it much longer, but I wanted to be sure… I had to be sure…

I didn't want to tell him about this hope only to have it… _disappear_ … again before our very eyes.

His gaze met mine now, and he smiled tiredly.

I took a deep breath. I knelt and he bowed his head, but I felt his eyes still on me as we began the Lord's Prayer.

We both made the sign of the cross, and it comforted me beyond belief. No doubt he could see it in my eyes.

Was his faith truly being restored? What would that mean for him as he continued to heal? What would that mean for how he'd listen?…

I'd tell him.

After mass though, I noticed in the car that he seemed edgy.

He wasn't speaking, but he seemed full of thought.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

He nodded, kissing my knuckles in hopes of easing my mind.

"I don't believe you." I dug deeper.

"Why?" He chuckled throatily, ducking to put his head on my shoulder.

I knew what he was doing. He was hiding his eyes from me because he knew I'd see something in them.

"Because I know you." I responded.

He didn't sit up or grant me his gaze.

"Do you… know what day it is?" He asked with a dark tone.

I nodded, and he didn't have to say much more. It was Ash Wednesday, sure, but it was also the day that Royce King II was released from prison after his nine year sentence for what he'd done to me.

I'd gotten a letter; so had my father.

Emmett of course thought Royce deserved more than nine years, and even when the jury read the verdict that Royce was found guilty, Emmett wasn't satisfied. He'd wanted more. He'd wanted blood.

But, we didn't get it. Royce was too squeaky clean, too blindly respected, and no one had really believed me to begin with. I was convinced I hadn't been the only woman he'd done that to, and Emmett searched the ends of the earth for even the slightest indication of anyone that would step forward to testify something similar had happened to them at his hand.

Emmett had fought that case so hard, against all the red tape and odds. It wasn't us that was the problem. It was the entire system surrounding the way we punish and rehabilitate sexual predators.

"There's… no death penalty in New York." Emmett recalled, speaking slowly.

I shrugged, and Emmett felt it, sitting back.

"For him, I wished… there was." He said.

"I know." It was all I knew to say, my throat feeling tight.

I'd preferred to remove myself and look at this like someone else's life. It was easier that way, but it wasn't always the right decision.

Emmett sat next to me, still on edge. I sighed.

"I'm not worried though." I said, but I knew he'd hear the unsure tinge to my tone.

"I am." Emmett responded quickly.

"Why? He can't do anything to me." I said.

I'd been convincing myself of this for years.

"I know that. But, it's just… It reminds me… _I_ can't… do anything for you." Emmett said, and I heard the devastation and ghostly terror in his voice.

"You won't have to." I assured him, but I really was reassuring myself too.

"I'm still… angry…"

"I am too."

"I… swear if he… _jaywalks_ … he'll get a life sentence for probation violation…." Emmett entertained the idea. "Now… that Edward's… got my job… I'll make sure he's watching… with a fine tooth comb… But…"

I still hadn't heard what Emmett thought of Edward getting his job, and so I remained quiet and receptive to whatever Em was going to say about this.

"It's…. not…"

"It's not you." I tried to finish his sentence, letting him know I understood. "And no one can protect me like you can."

"Like I _could_ …" He spoke in past tense though it wasn't necessary.

"Emmett…" I breathed.

"Stop." He said softly, and I saw the heartbreak in his eyes.

He didn't open up immediately, but eventually he took a deep breath.

"I miss… it."

I stroked his hair, and he let himself turn toward me and return his head on my shoulder. This time it wasn't to avoid my eyes though. It was because we found comfort in one another.

He exhaled, and I shivered at his breath on my neck. He turned, and I waited.

"I miss being able to… help…" He started. "But, I miss it… for me too…"

"I know." I kissed the part of his face I could reach.

"The… courtroom… was… my ring…" He admitted to me. "I'd fight…"

"And you'd win." I nodded, a little smile on my lips. That part of him was so attractive to me.

"And I'd win…" I saw a little fire in his eyes before it turned to ash.

"Now, I _don't_ …" He swallowed. "Win, I mean… At anything."

" _You will_." I swore taking his face in my hands.

I'd tell him. I had to.

Right now.

"Em, listen… There's something I…" I started.

The driver swerved and there was a loud series of angry honking.

Emmett inhaled sharply, throwing his hands over his head.

"Not a damn soul in New York knows how to drive." My new driver began with a light chuckle, completely unaware of what happened to Emmett just a few months ago.

18 weeks ago…

Emmett was breathing heavily, and his eyes were far away and low. His clenched fists were shaking over his head, and it broke my heart how quickly he'd disintegrated in front of my eyes.

I moved my hands, afraid I was going to get caught with them resting protectively on my center.

My heart was racing as I placed my hands on top of his.

"Hey, it's okay." I spoke as tenderly as I could, guiding his hands down so his focus would rise. I saw the look in his eye and he wasn't afraid. He was _ashamed_. He was embarrassed of his reaction.

It was too soon. Getting him in a car after what had happened was no easy feat, and this showed exactly why.

He jerked away from me still laboring through every breath.

"Stop the car." I said.

"We're still a few blocks from…" The driver protested.

"I said stop the car." I spoke with authority, and so we eventually slowed to a stop.

"What are you doing?" Emmett mumbled once we were both on the sidewalk under the sun.

Emmett looked up at me now with a confused look in his eyes.

I kept my coat zipped even though I felt the sun kiss my cheeks.

I smiled.

"I figured a couple blocks wouldn't hurt us…" I noted nervously. "It's a beautiful day."

He nodded.

" _You're_ beautiful." He said easily, as side by side we made our way down the street.

I wasn't oblivious so I noticed the people staring, but Emmett kept his eyes on me and me alone.

I knew he was thanking me in his own way, but every shred of faith I saw in his eyes during Mass was sucked out of him.

He'd been transported, and he couldn't forget. He'd been reminded of his limitations and he'd been reminded of the split seconds that had changed his life and brought on those limitations.

I took a deep breath before I took the handles of his wheelchair, pushing him toward the subway.

"What are… you doing?" He asked wildly, turning over his shoulder.

I'd never even seen the subway before, and now as I started toward the underground, I was regretting it but there was no turning back now.

"Which one do I get on?" I asked him after I'd paid for our one way passage.

He laughed, _his_ laugh.

"It depends… on where… you're going." He responded.

"Which one did you get on?" I asked him, the numbers and letters and colors looking like a crazy complex alphabet soup.

"The 6." He responded, but there was a question in his eyes. "Why?…"

New York was a different world underground, and I'd never imagined this network had existed under my feet this whole time.

People had their heads down on their cellphones, their newspapers, their books, and their own lives as I stood next to Emmett on the platform. It was refreshing.

I kept my own eyes down as we waited. I saw a subway rat scurrying over the tracks and thought I was going to toss my lunch, but I watched Emmett watching it with a different look in his eyes and it made me not hate this distinct smell and sticky air so much.

Emmett seemed different, refreshed at the difference and refreshed that we'd skipped out on the routine that we both had been a slave to.

But, then he hated that he jerked forward with a lurching stop when his front wheels got caught between the platform and the subway car. I tried not to call attention to it, and he'd frowned, but he'd ultimately figured it out and faced the problem head on.

We didn't discuss it, and he seemed to bounce back, but I was still overwhelmed. The New York underground was gritty, busy, and _different_.

Emmett made a comment about how there was no one on the car although it seemed crowded to me because every seat was filled.

I realized again how different our lives had been growing up, and I loved hearing him tell me a few stories about how he grew up as the rumble and screech of the subway and shuffling of the people began to morph into a cacophonous lullaby that almost relaxed me.

The graffiti littered the walls and the subway tile seemed to get bleaker, but the world was glowing.

Maybe it was just the fact that Em was more of himself right now. His eyes radiated against the florescent lights of the subway car, and I thought about how handsome he looked.

I couldn't help but reach out and play with his hair. It was so long that it curled under his ears and down to brush his collar now.

A homeless man watched us from where he sat across the car.

"What… is it?" Emmett asked, his eyes finding mine before I couldn't help but kiss him.

I'd missed him.

He was there in his eyes, and he was okay.

The subway announcer's voice sounded like just a crackling mumble, but Emmett pulled back seeming to understand.

"Next stop." He told me, and he tried to tell me about this one time Maria had gotten shut out of the subway and how she started crying on the platform thinking she was lost forever, then he and his mom had to get off the train run back a stop and then pay for another ride to get her and she was _still_ crying.

He'd laughed and started to tell me about this one ice cream shop that he got to go to once every couple months when his mom would treat he and Maria; he wondered if it was still open, then began to recall this old woman with dyed red hair named Francie that would smoke cigarettes behind the counter and give him an extra scoop of ice cream for free in exchange for a kiss on the cheek.

I laughed fully at his stories, and they poured out of him like a running faucet.

I could tell him… When we emerged from the underground and he was reborn, I would.

It lit him on fire again, and the flame was growing before my very eyes, beginning to consume all the doubt and fear that existed before. Color returned to his face as he seemed so excited to show me the streets of his youth, every so often telling me not to stare at anyone or take anything at face value because it's really a great place, it just looks rough, and…

His voice abruptly stopped and I watched the life drain out of him until now I recognized the bleak, wet, grimy, ugly place we were in.

A chain ran across the door and it became obvious the elevator wasn't functioning that day.

He wouldn't emerge from the earth... He would remain underground - trapped.

He didn't say a word, and even amidst all the hustle and bustle and people running around us, I heard his breath.

He sat there for a while, staring at the gate that barred him from yet another one of his homes.

Just like Adam, it seemed like he was doomed not to ever return to his Edens.

Cuba had been barred. The Bronx had been barred.

Where could he turn?

I swallowed, finally watching him turn around. I followed him back to the subway car, taking us back to what had always been my home but what I knew made him feel like an awkward transplant sometimes.

I didn't know what to say, and all the way back, we rode in silence.

He let me reach out to him, keeping my fingers busy in his hair and on his skin to remind him I was here and I loved him.

But, he didn't respond to my caresses. He kept his eyes glassy and far away from me until finally we emerged from the ground and back into the sun.

The sun didn't feel as warm, and the day didn't seem as beautiful now, and I wished there was something I could've done to stop his suffering. He blinked like the sun was too bright, and ducked his head.

When we closed the door to our beautiful penthouse apartment on Park Avenue, I kissed him.

He kissed me back, but just barely.

I reached for him, but he didn't reach back.

It broke my heart.

"I'm sorry." I told him.

"Why?… Don't be?…." He mumbled.

"Another time?" I started.

He shrugged, turning away from me and starting to take off his tie.

I kept my coat on.

"Are you… going somewhere?" He asked.

I nodded.

"I have to…" I started my sentence, but couldn't finish it.

I was going to the doctor.

"You know… you should get back to work." I said, changing the subject.

"Rosalie, you… know I can't…" He sighed.

The words seemed to come harder to him, and he dug deeper into his mind to find them.

My stomach fluttered.

"You can. You understand, and you're still you. Let me be your eyes. Let me read for you." I explained.

His eyes flashed up to mine, deep, rich chocolate, before they darkened once again.

"I… can't." He mumbled.

"You can. Stop saying that." I argued. "I'll read you the cases and make your notes. You tell me what to do; I can do it. I swear I can."

"No… one… wants… a half-brain-dead washed-up… lawyer on their case." He struggled with the sentence, but I understood.

"That's not very kind…" I half teased that I assumed he was talking about me, but he didn't find it funny.

"You know I'm… talking about _me_. I can't… _do_ this job anymore…" He spoke with heartbreak and took his time to pick his words. "I'm useless… in every way…"

"Em." I exhaled exasperatedly at the cruel words he'd chosen, and I turned away, putting both my hands on a side table, leaning forward.

When it was obvious I wasn't looking back at him, he spoke.

"Carlisle won't… take me back…" Emmett mumbled.

"He would." I said, keeping my eyes down because I wasn't sure.

Emmett shook his head.

"No. He doesn't… need me anymore." He went on, still struggling to choose his words.

"Sure he does…" I nodded.

Emmett shook his head again.

"No. Rosalie… my value was… in what I could say and how I said it… and how I could… command… a courtroom." Emmett said.

"Who would… listen to me now?" He asked rhetorically and frustratedly. "I… can't form… a sentence… Let alone… _command_ anything."

"You will." I assured him. "It's not what you did, or what you said. It's _you_."

He frowned.

"You… don't _understand_." Emmett spoke darkly.

I felt far away from him and I hated feeling this way.

"No… _You_ don't understand." I decided to be stern with him, maybe that'd wake him up.

His eyes shot to me, obviously not expecting me to react that way. I'd caught him off guard.

"It's _you_ , Em." I said, stopping and taking both his hands.

"But, I'm not _me_ anymore!" He responded strongly in Spanish then tried to start translating as he took his hands out of mine.

He frowned, seeming to be digging deeper and deeper to find the words.

I took a deep breath, then responded in the best Spanish I could on my exhale.

"I understand you." I kissed him, saying this in the language that made him feel most like himself.

He didn't say anything; he just pulled away and stared at me half in shock at what I was saying and half in shock at how I was saying it.

As I ran my hands through his hair, I watched his eyes flood with a relief I couldn't begin to understand.

"How?" He finally asked in Spanish in nothing more than a breath.

"Because I love you." I said in his native tongue, and he exhaled.

I felt his countenance change ever so slightly, but it was enough for me and I reveled in it.

"When I first saw you after the accident… I was… I was so afraid of you. You didn't look like yourself." I said, still trying in Spanish. "You looked _dead_."

"The nurse told me it was okay to touch you…" I kept going. "I was scared to though because there were so many tubes and wires in you that I…"

I cleared my throat. It was hard enough to say in English, so saying it my third language was even harder.

His eyes softened though, and I knew he understood Spanish much better and was much more confident with it. I met him where he was, now I needed the same from him.

I hoped he could see that in my eyes.

He watched me, hanging on my breath.

"But, as they explained things to me and asked me questions and showed me scans of your brain, and got me to sign things that could affect you forever in ways I couldn't understand… I did - touch you, I mean. I laid next to you, and for days I watched the fluid from your brain drip… and drip… and drip…"

He corrected my word use and Spanish grammar softly, his beautiful brown eyes still wide and full of understanding I hadn't seen in a long time.

I nodded, making the adjustment in Spanish and he gave me a little smile, still letting me talk.

"They kept telling me that you weren't going to come back…" I began again, still in his language. "Then you did. Every single time. But then they switched to saying I should be prepared for the you that came back not to be the _you_ that I remembered…."

"You were always _you_ to me though." I frowned. "I remember them moving you from neuro critical care to neuro acute care… It was like… everything had happened on a glacial speed, then things started picking up. You'd opened your eyes and your fingers had started moving again."

He reached out for me now, brushing my hair off my face like he hadn't been able to do just a short time ago.

"After a week or two, you could focus and blink again, and you immediately found me with your perfect brown eyes. But, you'd lost your voice."

"Then… you found your voice, but lost me…" I swallowed nervously. "You thought I was your doctor."

He pulled me closer to him and I sat in his lap, trying not to get too close in fear of what he could sense and feel in me.

And, I didn't want him to know I was hiding something from him.

"But the worst… the worst was when you lost _you_ …" I said, stroking his hair and kissing his face every bit of it I could reach without touching the ash.

"I couldn't find you in your eyes, Em. I couldn't… _see you_ anywhere…" I went on.

"But, I couldn't accept that you were gone…" I went on, and now I found a tear on my cheek.

He kissed me soft, sweet, and tender, like he used to.

"Now, I… I see you again. I _see you_ , Em." I said against his lips.

"I _feel_ you." I said, letting my hands explore his skin and my eyes dart over his face.

But, I didn't just mean in my fingertips. I meant in the core of my being.

I took his hand, my heart racing in my chest as I tried to guide it to where I hoped he'd feel it too.

He pulled his hand away though, shying away from me just before his fingertips could meet my skin….

A darkness had washed over him that suddenly engulfed me too.

"I _don't_." He protested, ripping us from our thoughts and high.

I retracted my own hands to wipe the tears streaming down my face, hiding my eyes from him so he couldn't see how much he'd just broken my heart.

I stood up from his lap, stepping just barely away from him.

He sensed it anyway, but instead of reaching out to me, he just clenched his jaw.

"Look at me." I commanded him, but he didn't listen.

"Emmett." I said with as much force as I could muster.

He found my eyes then.

"I know what it's like to not see you when I look at you Em." I told him strongly, still in Spanish so I was hoping I got my point across.

"And, right now…" I went on.

"This isn't me." He mumbled.

He shut me out of his eyes though, and so I couldn't see what he was thinking.

"But, you're _in there_ , Em." I spoke softly, beginning to get discouraged that I was starting to not see him like I'd told him I could, so I grasped for straws. "And… And I'm _going_ to pull you out."

"I'm… not the same anymore." He frowned, and I was growing angry that he was arguing with me.

"No, you aren't but… but I still love you." I swallowed desperately, taking his face in my hands and kissing every bit of him I could reach. "I do."

My heart was pounding.

"And we're going to be okay." I said, not knowing what else to say.

"I hate living like this. I hate having no choice." Anger seemed to ignite in him like a flame.

I'd taken what he said personally, and I knew I shouldn't have, but I did.

He lashed out, and before I could think I lashed out too.

"You've given _me_ no choice!" I felt my voice rise.

He looked at me as I'd seen only in nightmares.

"Em, that's not what I meant." I tried to tenderly get him to understand, but he shied away from me.

I reached out to him.

"Emmett, let me explain what I meant." I said again.

He immediately misinterpreted the meaning of my words, and shrunk away from me, betrayal and anger flashing like wildfire from the ashes, hidden only by the veil of his chocolate brown eyes.


	63. Lost

_I apologize for the HUGE DELAY! Life hit me pretty hard. Thank you so much for checking on me you sweet reviewers! I have here one of the VERY LAST CHAPTERS... This one is a two-parter in Rosalie and Emmett's POV of the same moment in time... March 27th of the present._

 _This was a very rewarding but difficult chapter to write, and I hope you enjoy it. This is my heart, and I am so happy to share it with you. Thank you so much for everything. This journey wouldn't have happened without you._

* * *

 ** _Lost - Dermot Kennedy_**

 _When everything was broken_  
 _The devil hit his second stride_  
 _But you remember what I told you_  
 _Someday, I'll need your spine to hide behind_  
 _For fear of moments stolen_  
 _I don't wanna say goodnight_  
 _But I'll still see you in the morning_  
 _Still know your heart and still know both your eyes_

 _I could have told you 'bout the long nights_  
 _How no one loves the birds that don't rise_  
 _So you can tell the heroes go hide_  
 _My sense of wonder's just a little tired_

 _But if only you could see yourself in my eyes_  
 _You'd see you shine, you shine_  
 _I know you'd never leave me behind_  
 _But I am lost this time_  
 _Are we destined to burn or will we last the night?_  
 _I will hold you 'til I hold you right_  
 _But if only you could see yourself in my eyes_  
 _You'd see you shine, you shine_

 _So we'll run into the open_  
 _Keep your hand inside of mine_  
 _And then when everything is over_  
 _I hope to think of this as better times_  
 _The sky got red and swollen_  
 _I guess I never see the signs_  
 _There can't be songs for every soldier_  
 _It can't be solace every time you cry_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 **March 27**

"Hi… I don't want to disturb you…" A man's voice started softly, breaking the tension of the air.

The only noise in the waiting room was the low hum of a television on the animal channel. I had learned all I ever wanted to learn about tigerfish populations in Zambia, so this man's honey coated voice shattered the monotonous sound.

I looked up from where I'd been picking at my nails nervously, and responding to emails on my cell.

A man about Emmett's age gave me a crooked smile with a little gap between his two front teeth. He was handsome in an interesting way, with a sharp jawline and green eyes slightly too big to be proportional that were looking at me with anticipation.

"It's just… You're _Rosalie. Hale_ …" The man said, pushing his honey colored hair back to show how his green eyes lit up.

I nodded, exhaling when I knew exactly what this man wanted. I was not a person to him. I was an icon.

"Yeah, I am." I smiled without it touching my eyes, letting my focus drop back to my lap so he'd get the hint and stop talking to me.

But, instead, he sat down next to me. His cologne floated to my nose, and for some odd reason it relaxed me. Had my father worn this cologne when I was young?

Nevertheless, I met the man's eyes again.

"My name's Oskar." The man introduced himself.

I smiled pleasantly, but it still didn't touch my eyes.

Then, he got to the point.

"I haven't seen you here in a while." He observed, a wrinkle in his straight eyebrows.

I shrugged.

"You used to come a lot." He went on.

I let my mind wander, wondering if I'd ever seen him here but I knew I hadn't been paying enough attention to remember any faces.

I would've told him that he hadn't seen me because Emmett had flat out told me he didn't want me here. I knew it came from a place of shame, but still. I saw how he despised me being here, so I stopped coming, but then… Then, things had just gotten worse.

He'd been… _awful_ these last few weeks. Absolutely, irrationally awful and I knew it was my fault. I knew it was because I'd snapped at him. I'd gotten stressed and thoughtless and something came out of my mouth that I didn't mean. I didn't mean he'd left me with no choice but to be with him and deal with him.

I meant that… God, I just loved him so much and I couldn't bear the thought of living without him. I couldn't bear the thought of… of him not living anymore - or of him not ever coming back when I told him I was going to try to help pull him back out.

I couldn't bear the thought of not believing that tomorrow had to be better than today.

I had no choice but to _believe_ …

I had no choice but to believe enough for the both of us.

"I haven't come over to talk to you before because I haven't known what to say." Oskar said, and his voice held an authenticity to it that made me keep listening.

My eyes darted over his face, seeing nothing but kindness in his eyes.

I relaxed slightly.

"Well, what do you want to say?" I asked plainly, tilting my head.

"My husband's accident was four years ago today…" Oskar told me directly, jumping straight to it.

I got a sour taste in my mouth thinking that he was going to try to encourage me or give me advice as so many had done before.

"I'm sorry." I swallowed.

"It's fine. He absolutely hated coming here, but now he actually comes on his own…" Oskar told me, referring to this sort of support group that the doctors all but required of their healing patients to help them cope with the aftermath of living with a traumatic brain injury.

Now, he was coming out of his own will?…

I think Emmett would've rather died than come to this support group. These past few weeks especially. The leader mentioned to me that he never shared; he'd sneer at things others would say. Overall, he really didn't help create or facilitate any discussion or positive environment. He really wasn't behaving very well, and the leader last week mentioned he might have to kick him out if things don't improve because he's having a negative impact on the other patients.

Yes… Apparently, you could get kicked out of a mandatory support group and have to find another one…

"Last week at dinner, Eric talked to me about your husband. Emmett, right?"

"Yes." I nodded, furrowing my brow.

"Eric said he's funny."

"He might get kicked out for being funny." I raised an eyebrow.

"This is Eric's eighth support group. He knows all about getting kicked out." Oskar laughed.

The corner of my mouth turned up a little, but I didn't feel the statement solicited a response. I loosened up a little though.

"There should be one for us, you know." Oskar said. "Well, I guess there might be, but if it's anything like what they're getting I probably wouldn't go."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused by his words.

"I think going through this like they're going through it is unimaginable, but we're going through it all too. In a different way, sure, but we're going through it." Oskar sighed. "I was saying _we_ need a support group as care takers, but I guess that's what all these stale waiting rooms are for. We should talk to each other I guess, try and help each other through it. But, most of us don't want to listen. We don't have the energy or the time, and honestly… Most of us are sick of hearing other people's advice. Brain injuries are so different that… None of us can really help each other anyway."

I heard the melancholy in his voice.

I listened even though he was right. I really didn't want to listen.

"I know when it first happened, everyone was…. trying so hard." Oskar trailed off, then cleared his throat seeming to decide his direction. "If one more person told me an encouraging story about victory over the odds, I was going to jump out of a window."

He snorted.

I couldn't help but exhale in a little chuckle.

"I can attest to that." I agreed.

"I swear, I was absolutely suffocated by everyone trying to give me advice or make me feel better or something." Oskar spoke like he was refreshed to have someone understand what he was going through.

I felt the same.

"But none of it does - make you feel better I mean." Oskar swallowed nervously.

My eyes darted to the floor.

"Yeah." I agreed.

"Except… sometimes… I found something that helps… a little…" Oskar began then redirected. "You see that guy over there?"

He nodded toward a man with a baseball cap on with deep brown eyes sunken into their sockets as he read a book with dog-eared pages.

I just nodded, darting my eyes to the floor again.

"That's Mitchell. His wife had the same type of TBI as my husband. She had her fall at 25." Oskar told me in a whisper like he was gossiping.

I acknowledged he'd spoken, but still knew it wasn't time for me to respond.

"That was ten years ago. She can't walk. She can't talk. She can't do anything for herself. She hasn't communicated with him or their two daughters in 10 years. She's in physical therapy across the hall, but nothing really works."

I took a deep breath.

"The only thing that makes me feel better sometimes is thinking, 'well, at least Eric's not _that_ bad.'" Oskar admitted. "Isn't that sick?"

"No. I do the same thing." I breathed through the tiny hole in my closing throat.

"Well, we're both sickos then." Oskar shrugged, dry and dark humor in his voice.

I pursed my lips.

"After all I've seen, I kind of figured it was inevitable." I mumbled.

Oskar chuckled darkly then his eyes darted over me.

"How do you stay strong?" Oskar asked, changing course.

The question took my breath.

"I… I'm not strong." I shook my head. "I haven't been strong."

I felt my eyes and nose start to burn, quickly wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. I couldn't cry in front of a stranger.

"Getting up every morning and breathing in and out after something like this happens to the love of your life is more strength than some people will ever have to even fathom displaying." Oskar told me, placing his hand on top of mine.

I didn't move my hand.

"After Eric got better to a certain point and all the nurses left, the hardest thing…. The hardest thing was the realization that everything we'd dreamed and hoped and vowed to each other on our wedding day had… _died_. He was a stranger, and I didn't know how to talk to him, how to _act_ around him. I thought we were closer than anyone could imagine being. We had always just _clicked_. We were always on the same page, until… Until this."

Oskar's words resonated with me, and I felt my heart start to race. I clenched my jaw, trying to deny any sort of visible emotional response.

I remembered being indistinguishable from Emmett. My very cells had drunk him in and I knew exactly how to please him and love him and all of that. I knew him, and he knew me. I was cosmically connected to him. Now, I barely knew how to talk to him, especially these last few weeks, but in general…

"The old ways of being his husband had just vanished. He and I couldn't operate the same ways we had before. Our dynamic had changed. His brain injury had happened to our entire marriage, not just to him." Oskar seemed to be trying to find out the words he really wanted to say.

My cheeks started to flush, and I didn't know if it was because I still had my coat on inside or if I felt like he was reading my mind.

"I just… don't know him anymore. He's… he's not who he was." I mumbled.

"You're right. He died in that accident." Oskar said strongly.

It slapped me in the face and I tried to remind myself to close my mouth.

I didn't want to believe he was right. I couldn't accept it, even though it was indeed something I'd said before. But, the words coming from another person's mouth made it cut deeper.

"He's different now, and reminding him of who he was is only going to frustrate the both of you. He's got a whole new brain, so he's a whole new person now." Oskar noticed a few tears had escaped to stream down my cheeks, and he softened his gaze.

"I thought our marriage could just… get Eric through this." Oskar said to redirect. "Like some sort of miracle, us having a strong relationship was just going to heal him and he would remember who he was and it would be a fairytale type miracle."

"I guess… I was thinking the same thing." I swallowed, my throat getting so tight that it pushed out a few tears.

"I know…" Oskar's eyes held ancient sadness in it. "I thought that until the day my husband tried to kill himself. Then I realized that's not _going_ to happen." Oskar told me candidly, noticing I wiped my cheek.

Tears were beginning to start at the idea of Emmett feeling that hopeless.

"So let me be realistic with you." Oskar started.

"Okay." I sniffed, clenching my jaw but still sounding pathetic.

"He's different, and will always be. Don't try to compare him to how he was. Adapt to him, and who he is now." Oskar began like he was starting a list.

"He needs a consistent routine, but let him actually engage in his schedule. It's small, but it's empowering, and I found that it made a difference in my relationship with Eric when he got to make some small decisions about his plans."

I nodded.

"When you tell him something, find a way to have him repeat details back to you. Conversation will get easier because he's going to start remembering social structure and it helps keep him sharp without quizzing him."

These were weird details, but oddly helpful. I nodded again.

"He can't multitask and probably won't able to for the rest of his life, so always keep distractions at a minimum. If music is playing, that's all he can focus on. If he repeats himself, react the very same way every single time. He'll put it together himself. It's much better if he can realize it and adjust than having you halt that connecting pathway in his brain."

"I'm telling you these things, and maybe they don't even apply to you and your husband's case, but… these were mistakes I made. And, I want to save you a few years of misery and thousands of dollars on counseling and... I don't want you to have to pick your husband up out of the bathroom floor after he's swallowed an entire bottle of pills not knowing if it was too late."

I wanted to throw up. Oskar was very direct.

"Ask an open ended question and don't try to read him. Just listen." Oskar went on. "Listen to him. Don't try to fix it. Don't try to fix him. Just listen."

I snorted with a dark smile on my lips.

"What?" Oskar raised an eyebrow.

"Our roles were reversed not too long ago… A different situation entirely, but that's… that's exactly what drove me absolutely mad. He would act and try to fix everything. Most times he could fix everything, but it drove me insane…"

Oskar drunk in this information.

"Are you taking care of yourself?" He asked me in response. "You know, when Eric was five months out, like I think he mentioned Emmett is now -"

"Yes…" I swallowed, the time being incredibly significant to me.

"I woke up one day and realized that I hadn't taken a shower in three weeks." Oskar told me. "I hadn't paid the power bill, or checked the mail, or anything from our life before."

"I'm taking care of myself." I confirmed, thinking about how hard it would have been to do if I was just taking care of myself, but I wasn't.

"I _have_ to." I murmured

My stomach turned and knotted, but it felt vibrant and full of life all at once.

My hands cradled my center, and Oskar noticed.

His eyes went wide and my heart raced.

That's when I heard a new voice in the room.

"Mrs. McCarty?" A hospital staff walked up to me.

That wasn't my name.

Six months ago, I wouldn't have answered to it at all because I wouldn't have known to even look up. But, I'd been called that so many times now at these hospital visits because the traditional thing would've been to take my husband's last name that now, I was hyper sensitive to it. It had become part of my identity now.

"What's wrong?" I immediately read her eyes.

I tensed up. Oskar sat forward in his chair.

"The front desk told me you were here today…" She started.

"Yes?" I raised an eyebrow, urging her on.

I noticed some of the others from Emmett's group had reunited with their significant others and companions. Some people stared in my direction with anger or annoyance. Others were crying and connected to their partners having a private exchange before looking over at me. It was a whisper of voices and a shifting of eyes across the room that all seemed to end on me.

"We need to talk to you about your husband." The worker began, and my soul dropped to my knees.

The last time someone had said that to me like this…

"What happened?" I shot up from the chair.

That's when a doctor, a nurse, and the moderator from Emmett's group joined us. I stood forward on my toes, poised.

"He's been removed from this group's meeting activities." The moderator said.

I crossed my arms over my chest and softened back into my heels, hating that they got me nervous over nothing.

"Okay." I said.

"As we'd mentioned a couple weeks ago, we were struggling with him getting along with the other patients. He's been… combative, confrontational, and just… just _hateful._ "

I clenched my jaw.

No doubt he felt manipulated.

He wasn't hateful or any of those things, except maybe confrontational, but most of the time it was just because he was direct and it could be misinterpreted by people that didn't understand his lack of delicacy on certain matters. He just preferred the direct route.

"I'm sure you're aware, he's harboring a lot of anger…" The nurse said softly.

"I mean wouldn't _you_ be?!" I felt tension in my voice and tried desperately to reign in my volume.

"He told the others in group today that they were all better off dead." The moderator lashed out, and I saw in her eyes something that made me want to jump on her and rip all of her flat hair out of her head.

She didn't see him as a person. She saw him as a monster.

"Before, we would've forgiven this and worked on a different treatment plan, but now, your husband's behavior is beyond inexcusable." The doctor began authoritatively and dismissing what I'd just said.

No surprise.

My hands clenched into fists.

"We know from brain scans it's not entirely due to significant trauma to the personality center. Most likely, this behavior is _deliberate_." The doctor began.

I got angry all of a sudden.

"What if it isn't?" I argued, unable to accept he was the monster they'd painted him to be.

"Rosalie… It is. I know you don't want to believe it. There's something going on there that has nothing to do with his accident." The doctor continued.

I put my hands on either side of my head trying to squeeze out the noise of my busy brain.

"Isn't that why he has to come to these damn meetings? You're supposed to be fixing it." I exasperatedly responded.

"We can't control him." The moderator said and the others agreed with a nod.

"You shouldn't be trying to!" I growled. "That's the problem!"

"Rosalie…" Oskar seemed to try to call me down but I wasn't hearing it.

"No. This is _ridiculous_." I felt my voice start to strain.

"You're misunderstanding what we're saying." The doctor said again and his tone sent a fit of rage through me.

"I understand _perfectly!"_ I shrieked, and eyes shot to me from every direction.

"What'd I tell you?" One of the men from Emmett's group looked over at one of the women closest to him that was sobbing into her companion's shoulder.

"You two deserve each other." She narrowed her eyes.

I was seeing red.

We _did_ deserve each other. We were supernatural in a world of ordinary. We were a god and goddess amongst mortals. We weren't of this cosmic universe. We were superior.

That's why no one understood…

"Where is he?" I growled, the sound of my voice full of emotion and tension.

All of them looked at one another. I knew that look. They were trying not to show panic that they didn't know.

"Wherever he is, he's probably with Eric." Oskar's eyes darted around the room and I noticed this must've been true because Eric was also missing.

I felt my heart quicken, and I desperately tried to calm myself down.

My head went in a thousand different directions. What could I do?

What if something was wrong? He…

We were the only two people in this world that mattered.

I didn't even care where I was, I was going to explode on them.

I opened my mouth to tell them all what for.

That's when I felt it.

It was like popcorn popping inside of me.

And, I wasn't imagining it.

I froze, reveling in the passage of time until….

"Rosalie?…" Oskar put his hand on my shoulder now.

Back into reality I snapped as the movements inside of me stopped, but like getting off a really intense rollercoaster, I emerged from my contact with the surreal still feeling my head spin.

The world around me was fuzzy and loopy.

I swallowed, fixating my eyes on the door. This would latch me to the tangible world.

My brow furrowed when I returned to the present.

I…

"I… I have to go." I swallowed.

"Rosalie!" Oskar called after me as I retreated.

I had to get to the other side of the hospital. Now.

I didn't pay attention. I tried calling Emmett, but there was no answer.

Soon there were tears coming down my cheeks. I paused in my tracks, the popcorn feeling in my body happening once again but stronger.

My heart raced, but I took a deep breath trying to stay as calm as I could but that wasn't exactly very calm. I finally burst through the doors and begged to be seen.

It was an emergency.

They read my desperation and soon but not soon enough I was lying on a table and a doctor and tech were searching… searching…

I tried to read their faces to see any indication that something wasn't right.

Everything felt tense, even though I tried diligently to will my muscles to uncoil and relax.

I was nervous, _intensely so_ , and I couldn't even take a breath until…

I stayed as still as I could, closing my eyes then and reveling in the sound that dispelled all the silence. It was quick, like a hummingbird's wings and the swift percussion calmed me.

It was the most beautiful sound in the world.

I exhaled audibly, unable to help myself from smiling in relief.

"Rosalie… Would you like?…" Morgan, the ultrasound tech began kindly.

I could hear the pity in her voice. I hated it.

My smile disappeared and was soon replaced by the realization of sadness once again.

I kept my head turned, buried into the headrest. I didn't want to even look.

"No." I closed my eyes tightly, feeling my voice jump in my throat.

I hated the way my heart skipped and my stomach flipped. I did want to know…

"Are you done now?" I asked sharply, trying to hurry her up and keep her from getting too deep or emotional with me.

Not without him.

"You're doing great, you know…" Morgan said tenderly.

I waited, clenching my jaw. But, inside, I was exhaling a praise chorus.

"But yes, we're done." At last she pulled away from me.

I pulled down on the hem of my sweater.

"Everything's okay, Rosalie. You can relax… The baby's around 21 weeks, so it's perfectly healthy and actually a very good sign to feel some kicking and squirming… That's all it was. Just letting you know they're in there…" The doctor began. "It's okay."

I shut my eyes even tighter, not wanting to hear any of this or experience _any_ of it without him.

Then my eyes snapped open.

"Wait… _How_ many weeks?"

"21." Morgan repeated not knowing this was an incredibly significant milestone of accomplishment.

I sat up and hugged her, throwing my arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tight.

She stiffened then relaxed into my embrace.

"You're doing so good, Rosalie. Really. Everything's fine…" patting my back in silent comfort.

"It's all going to be okay. And we're here for you in all your questions." She said, pulling away and finding my eyes so she could see the sincerity in them that made it look like this was a promise.

Then, my phone started to ring.

 _Emmett._

My heart sank and soared all at once.

"Hey. Are you okay?"" I answered quickly, panic evident in my voice.

"I need to see you." His voice was low and rough.

I pushed out the door then, irrationally not knowing where I was going except that I had to go to him.

"Where are you?" I asked in a rush, still not knowing where I was going but I pushed myself faster down the hall.

"I'm at the hospital. At physical therapy. 4th floor." He said, and I heard emotion in his voice that made me pick up my pace. "I'll be done in… a half hour."

Something was wrong.

He didn't have an appointment or a session today. This was totally voluntary.

Why did he go?…

"I'll be there in five." I assured him, not asking why I was hearing vulnerability in his voice.

All I knew was that I heard it and that was rare.

"Why are you at the hospital?" He asked.

"I'll tell you when I get there."

The popcorn in my stomach quickened.

* * *

 **Emmett**

I propped my head up on my fist, my elbow lazily resting on the table in front of me. My eyes stayed straight down at the table so I could avoid the eyes of everyone else. I was disinterested, and the easiest way to pass the time was to look straight down at the table and think of anything but being _here_ doing _this_.

"My name's Kevin, and my injury was a year ago today. I guess I'm having trouble with… change." He started.

I let my eyes dance up to the clock watching the second hand tick and tick and tick and tick. Time passed at a glacial speed. I swore I could hear every gear in the clock turning, every tick, every thing whirring and turning in this entire room, maybe even the next room. It was mind numbing. Then, across the room I thought I heard a fly's wings unfurling, and beating against each other in an annoying buzz.

Then, my ears started to ring and I followed the sound of the buzzing to assign it to what indeed had been a fly across the room.

I could focus on barely anything else now.

"I just miss the way I'd…" Kevin continued maybe hours later, but emotion was building quickly in his voice. "I just… I miss the way things were. I miss the way I'd be able to run down the block for a bagel and see Old Lady Ostronic and her cat, Gizmo."

I realized when I looked back to the clock that only a minute and 14 seconds had passed. It had felt like hours, but it had only been 14 seconds.

I frowned, looking over his way now. There was something sick inside of me that couldn't help but watch apathetically while people cried or got emotional.

Something inside of me almost enjoyed it I think.

I sunk deeper into my chair, my head getting heavier against my fist.

"And now… Now my neighborhood corner store closed." Kevin began to fully sob now, and I couldn't help but snort a little laugh I thought I disguised pretty well as a cough. "So I'll never be able to run down to the corner and get a bagel ever again. I just… My whole world's gone!"

"Emmett, what do you think?" The moderator began, and everyone's eyes were expectantly on me.

Apparently that laugh hadn't been as well disguised as I'd thought.

"It's just New York City." I mumbled, omitting the curse word I'd almost inserted. "Your neighborhood's just being gentrified, so your favorite bodega's now going to be a Whole Foods. You'll still have plenty of bagels. They just might be gluten free."

"That's a pleasant thought." The moderator tried to twist my obviously negative tone.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Gentrification, a pleasant thought? Or was she talking about overpriced bagels?

"But, I think it's about more than bagels, Emmett." She guided me though I didn't need it. "It's about change."

I would've responded with something witty and snarky, but I didn't have the energy.

"What does Kevin's sharing bring up for you, hmmm?" The moderator continued, her chair squealing as she shifted her weight.

She reminded me of this fat, boring, miserable woman I'd crossed paths with while I was a first year at Princeton. I obviously needed money for school, so I was tutoring on the side. I'd gotten paid an astronomical amount to help this woman's high school aged daughter with her SATs. The girl wasn't remotely interested in college, only her boyfriend and his band. She had big plans to be a groupie. But, one night when her mom was paying me, she'd slipped the money down the front of my pants and hit on me.

I was seventeen….

Needless to say, I made all my money for school tutoring hopeless causes with secretly sexually frustrated mothers.

 _Most_ of the time when I got paid it was for tutoring their kids.

 _Sometimes_ it wasn't.

Especially when rent was due.

This woman leading this group looked stupidly like her, or every other bored bland vanilla housewife in the continental U.S.

I would've told her exactly that, but I just shrugged.

"You can feel safe here. We're all listening."

I couldn't help myself now and I snorted a laugh.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Nothing." I mumbled, still laughing darkly.

"Emmett…" She protested.

I stared straight at her, knowing eventually she'd bend to my will.

And she did. She redirected her focus to another woman who started sharing another pathetic story, and I knew the moderator had given up on me like she always did.

But then, someone across the circle addressed me.

"You never share." An older man noted.

I shrugged.

"All of us are over here baring our souls and you haven't even…" Another guy trailed off. "It isn't fair."

"I mean, we know _who you are_ , obviously…" A lady about 10 years older than me added. "But, we don't _know_ you."

Nothing phased me.

"Emmett, we're here to listen to you. Why don't you share with us?" The moderator asked again.

I full on groaned now, tossing my hands up.

"What do you people want? Do you want me to cry for you? Tell you how I feel alone and hopeless, at the bottom of a mountain with _no way to climb_?!" I pulled my voice to dramatize fake emotion.

The man beside me sat back, eyes wide. I didn't care to remember his name, but I'd noticed him watching me.

"I'm good at it. I can do all the theatrics. Whatever you want." I tossed my hands up. "I can do it. It's just exhausting, and I'm bored."

"Emmett?" The moderator's eyes widened.

"I mean, this guy's crying because of a damn Whole Foods." I finally scoffed, laughing as Kevin sobbed.

"Hey! That is not…" Kevin started.

"And this lady's upset about a guy that dumped her 9 years ago. It wasn't your brain injury. He just wasn't into you." I went on.

"And you…" I went on redirecting my focus, but got interrupted before I could say anything.

"You're an asshole." A woman across from me narrowed her eyes.

I didn't mind.

"Hey, Sarah, try to stay in your experience." The moderator encouraged.

This solicited another snorting chuckle from me.

"You're married." The moderator looked down at her notes trying to start with something that would open me up.

She'd been trying for three weeks now.

I held my breath.

"How in God's name is someone married to _you_?" Sarah asked meanly.

I decided to sit back, disengaging.

"Bless her soul." Another woman, Marty, giggled at her comment.

"Everyone…" The moderator spoke softly to calm them down.

I rolled my eyes. It wasn't like it hurt my feelings or anything.

"He's married to that supermodel, Rosalie Hale and they deserve each other. She's even more of a bitch than he is unbearable." A man on the far side of the circle from me added to the conversation.

"You wanna open your mouth _one_ more time?" I fumed.

I shot him a look, clenching my hands into fists.

"Hey, now Adam, let's focus on our own feelings and journeys." The moderator's eyes went wide.

I glared at him.

He crossed his ankle over his knee.

I knew he was taunting me because he could and I couldn't.

I looked away.

"Adam, would you like to apologize?"

"As soon as he does." Adam said.

I saluted, letting it be known that wasn't happening for a good thousand years.

"Emmett?" The moderator prompted.

" _Me?!_ " I widened my eyes, looking toward Adam. "I didn't do anything to you. I swear, the moment they stop medicating me so hard I can barely see straight, I'm getting up out of this chair and kicking your ass."

Adam snorted.

Everyone was quiet now, even the moderator.

I could hear my heart pounding. Maybe I'd gone too far.

"Do you ever think that'll happen?" The man next to me started.

The moderator's eyes went wide.

"You getting up out of that chair, I mean?" He clarified, nodding down to where my feet were pronated below me, obviously out of my control.

I felt heat rising to the top of my head, making the tips of my ears purple.

Was it anger?

I stared over at him incredulously for addressing me, and our eyes met.

The man's eyes were big and open and blue, almost purple - that color was so rare that it shocked me to look at him. His eyes were almost the same color as Rosalie's just a little darker.

I cleared my throat, looking down and away to avoid any emotion that could've risen.

"I don't know." I mumbled, trying to stay removed, but the hopelessness was evident in my voice and betrayed me.

I hated this. I hated this almost as much as I hated my useless legs.

My teeth gritted together and I clenched my hands into fists.

I noticed then that the man next to me had a cane propped up against his chair.

I fixated.

"Emmett, I was going to ask, how's your wife doing in all of this?" The moderator drew me from my thoughts and ruined everything positive I was starting to feel.

I frowned. I hadn't…. even bothered to check on Rose… I honestly didn't even want to know. I imagined being a burden to her so much that I wouldn't even let myself ask if she was okay because it'd give her an opportunity to tell me she wasn't.

But, I knew her and I knew she'd never tell me that straight out.

Instead, it would come out more like what had happened a couple weeks ago when she'd told me she had not choice.

It hit me hard, and I felt my throat get tight.

"Do you and your wife have any children?" She asked.

"No." I said shortly. "We don't."

I wasn't an idiot, I saw a few people whispering that seemed to know about my history with childlessness.

This moderator was being unfair. Too many of those words had cut too deep.

And it was like she knew it.

I narrowed my eyes, feeling betrayed.

"In a sense, you're still pretty newly married. You're still very young and without any children. In a way, before your accident your life was just beginning… What do you think now?"

I furrowed my brow. In my deepest thoughts, I heard Rosalie's voice rise in pitch, and the wild look in her eyes as she desperately snapped that I'd left her with no choice. I heard her cry in her sleep when I was so riddled with insomnia I didn't have a hope of finding any solace in dreaming. I felt her shrink away from me, as I'd reached out for her last night, and the night before, and the night before, and the night before…

She'd stayed busy, and I knew with medical bills piling up and me not working at all, it wasn't easy on her even if she did have a fortune to fall back on. She was working hard so yes, she was busy and distant but even when we fell asleep next to each other, she stayed arms distance, always.

She was keeping something from me.

Rosalie was too much of a creature of commitment and obligation to be having an affair, but I wouldn't have blamed her.

It wasn't that, but it was _something_ , and I hated knowing she was lying to me.

Maybe she wasn't lying, but she was definitely holding something back, and I couldn't stand it.

But then again, it scared me. If she was trying to keep something from me, it was big, and it was terrible…

I imagined it was all that she had harbored these months since the accident. All the darkness she held inside of her was brewing and bubbling, and I couldn't do anything to alleviate it. It scared me that it was so dark she couldn't reveal it to me.

I shook my head trying not to think about it, but it was festering.

"These sort of things have enormous impacts on spouses, even long term marriages and partnerships." The moderator expanded. "Your wife's what?… 25? That's such a formative time in identity, and if she wants kids then…."

I looked out the window and noticed smoke rising from the street.

"You know, I would kill someone for a cigarette right now. I haven't smoked a cigarette in almost… well, in seven years." I redirected, getting distracted. "But, right now, I'd kill for one."

"You can't." The moderator began.

She'd struck a nerve, and she knew it, but did she have the courage or the strength to keep going? I doubted it.

This lady wasn't Vera.

"I know." I interrupted with a groan, pushing her limits. "I know. I can't do anything fun."

"That's not true." She argued.

Maybe?…

"Then, I'm pouring a drink before this next meeting."

"You…" She started.

"I can't. I know. Nothing that alters the brain." I sighed exasperatedly. "But getting through these meetings would be a hell of a lot easier blackout drunk. Having to sit around and listen to all of you whining about the most pointless and pathetic things I've ever heard is no walk in the park…."

"Emmett, these are people's lives…" The moderator tried to get me to understand.

She'd given up and changed course. It enraged me, but also relieved me.

"Well, we shouldn't have them. We all should've _died_. The world would be easier for everyone if we'd all just… just _died_ in those car accidents or surgeries or whatever other damn reason all our brains are so screwed up."

"Emmett!" The moderator snapped.

"Look around. We're all just burdens for someone else to take care of."

Everyone's jaws were on the floor, and some people had even started crying.

"Great. You did exactly what you set out to do." She tossed her hands up then ran them over her face before she stood up. "You've gotten yourself kicked out."

I smiled smugly.

"So we're done?" I asked, a knot and deep pit in my stomach

"We're done." She said, her lips pursed and her cheeks red. She ripped a piece of paper out of her book, signed it and handed it to me. "We're all dismissing early."

Some people stayed, crying with their head in their hands. Some people got up and rushed out the door. Some people left muttering curses at me.

"You're not permitted to any more of this group's activities. You're done." She said, looking straight into my eyes as if that would punish me.

She had no idea.

My fingers clenched into fists and I shoved my hand down into my pocket with the crumpled paper.

I should've known how this would end.

But, the most humiliating thing was that I couldn't stand up and storm out. Instead, in silence, I turned, fumbling with my wheels before the man that had been sitting next to me pushed the door open for me.

"My name's Eric." The man introduced himself calmly.

I didn't say anything. I kept my eyes down.

"This is my eighth group. I'd gotten kicked out of so many I lost count, but I sat down and figured it out the other day because I was thinking about how I got here." He said.

I didn't respond. I clenched my jaw, making it obvious I wasn't going to respond.

He was very agile with the cane, and even though I tried to outrun him, he stayed pace with me down the hallway.

"You know, I was a lot like you."

I snorted.

"I'm sorry." I mumbled.

"I wished I'd thought I was going to be okay sooner, because that's when I actually started to get better." Eric said the first genuine thing I'd heard all day.

I looked up at him, blinking.

"Sure, I get that." I breathed.

"Your speech has gotten so much clearer." Eric complimented.

I furrowed my brow, hating that I was pathetic enough to take that as a compliment.

"It's cause I'm not tired yet, and the medication's had time to wear off a little." I shrugged. "My next pill's in an hour though, so I'll go back to square one."

Eric nodded like he understood.

"It's like, what's worse the fog or the seizures?" Eric shrugged.

"Yes!" I widened my eyes, thankful someone finally got it and understood.

"You know, there's no significant scientific study that says you can't smoke _one_ single cigarette after a TBI." He suggested, tapping his inner leather jacket pocket to reveal a pack of cigarettes.

My eyes widened and I couldn't help but laugh.

"It took me _years_ to really quit." I sighed.

"Well, don't let me be a bad influence on you, then." He shrugged. "But, I'm going to the roof and I'm having a smoke."

I looked back at the lobby, and was stopped by the sight of a doctor, the moderator, and a couple nurses animatedly talking to Rosalie.

Rosalie had her arms crossed over her chest and her brow was furrowed to frame the intensity of her glare and the angry pout of her cherry red lips.

What was Rosalie doing here? I told her not to come.

Rosalie still had her coat on, so maybe that explained the scarlet flush to her cheeks, but it also could've been rage.

I knew that look.

She might as well have had steam coming out of her ears. I imagined she was upset with me for how I'd acted.

I mean, I was a monster now. It made my stomach knot to think that's how she saw me, but I was too far gone.

I'd started to remember that… that I loved her. And that I _really_ loved her… Emotion was hard to find in my brain, but I'd recently found my genuine passion for her buried under all the muck. However, as soon as I remembered how much I loved her, I realized how pathetic I was and how much I'd disappointed her. I realized that… that I was failing her.

I realized that she didn't deserve any of this. I realized that… _I_ wasn't deserving of her any more, not because of the limitations of my body, but the disgusting mess that was my mind. I'd yelled at her. I'd dismissed her. I'd shown her nothing but hatred. I'd denied her a child. I'd hurt her… I'd _hit_ her.

"Okay, just one." I agreed, darkly giving in to the impulse.

I followed him forward and out the side door. It led to a hallway that was far less populated and another back elevator not many people used.

Before too long we had made our way to the roof without being stopped. Eric was smart and knew what he was doing. He'd been here a while. I'd heard him say his accident was four years ago. He'd had time to figure out his tricks.

He also knew a guy who let us use his key card. Apparently the guy did that so he could bum cigarettes off of Eric.

"Ah, paradise, am I right?" Eric grinned over at me.

I noticed we were the only people on the roof overlooking Manhattan.

Even with pollution in the air and the quality of oxygen questionable at best, it was a beautiful day and I took a deep inhale, feeling the subtle heat of the new spring sun on my skin.

"Something… like that." I mumbled, my mind drifting toward Cuba.

A fog of a memory that seemed like a dream floated through my mind, but it was too muddled to be distinguishable. Another surreal picture flashed through my mind like a comet through the black night sky.

I just knew I felt wistful, and my stomach felt hollow.

Eric propped the cane against his hip, reaching for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He shared one with his key card contact whose name I learned was Trent. Then, he turned to me.

"Alright, you ray of sunshine." Eric spoke sideways with the now lit cigarette hanging from his lips. "What's it gonna be? Back to bad habits?"

I couldn't help but snort a little chuckle as a cloud of smoke slid from his lips.

"I might as well." I shrugged. "It's not like I'm not already dying. Might as well be for a reason I actually choose."

Eric gave me an odd look, seeming to pause and find greater meaning in what I'd said, but he reached out the cigarette pack and the lighter in my direction.

Then, I lit my first cigarette in seven years.

The three of us stayed quiet, looking out on the horizon in silence. I didn't mind.

I honestly preferred it.

"Let me see that paper in your pocket." Eric finally turned toward me.

I produced the crumpled up mess and handed it to him, furrowing my brow in confusion.

I wasn't about to tell him I had trouble reading it.

He unfolded it.

"Confrontational. Belligerent. Disobedient. Everything is a test of wills. Determined in creating adversarial relationships. Highly combative. Lack of empathy." He read from the notes. "Blah blah blah. Wait… _Sociopathic tendencies_? Damn!"

I had the oddest urge to smile.

"I must say, I've never gotten that one." Eric seemed to commend me with a laugh.

Trent rolled his eyes.

"Friendly neighborhood sociopath here." I just shrugged.

"She's got it wrong. You care." Eric tried to expose me.

I stayed quiet for a second.

"Well…. _yeah_?" I muttered as if it were obvious, feeling like I was showing my vulnerable beating heart just by saying this.

I remembered that conversation with Carlisle all those years ago about my empathy in the court room. It seemed like a different life….

At this point, it was.

Now, someone wrote that I lacked it? The one thing that distinguished me and made me… almost special.

It was gone now.

I wanted to go back. I wanted to go back more than almost anything.

That's what I was trying to do with asking Rosalie to marry me again the way I had and now I knew it. I knew I was trying to grasp a life that was slipping through my fingers. It wasn't mine anymore. It had turned to dust.

I was pushing to get back to something that didn't exist anymore. Just like I had before.

I had died as Emilio Velasquez on the open ocean. I had died as Emmett McCarty in that car accident.

I had no lives left. I had no more identities to pull from.

 _I had nothing left._

But, I had desperately tried the last and the futile Hail Mary… I'd asked Rosalie to marry me again and it wasn't because I wanted to start anew like I'd said.

It was because I wanted to see if I could go _back_.

Our first years of marriage… God, those were the best years of my life.

Going back was impossible.

I knew that now.

I remembered what my mom had said about it all coming back piece by piece - discovering who I am…

But, I already knew.

I was _no one_.

I was _nothing_.

There weren't any pieces left to even try and stitch together. I would always be less than half of a person.

The smoke was sweet to me, and I closed my eyes on the deep inhale.

I tried to distract my thoughts with focusing on the taste of the smoke. I was dangerously falling in love with it again.

Maybe it was just another way I was trying to go back though.

I frowned, taking the cigarette from my mouth.

"How do you want to die?" Eric asked directly.

I couldn't help but laugh uncomfortably at the question.

"You said you wanted to choose." Eric's eyes held something in them I couldn't read or process.

I furrowed my brow.

"Well… I don't know. I guess I never…" I stuttered.

Of course I'd never thought about this. Before though, I just thought… I'd die in a completely normal and uninteresting way: old and in my sleep. After what I'd gone through, I figured the universe owed me that.

"Help me with him." Eric looked over at Trent, not even waiting for me to finish.

Trent looked back at him with a question in his eyes but ultimately reached down for me.

"I can't…" I pushed, my eyes widening.

"We'll get you to your feet." Eric said. "Trust me."

I got my arm around his shoulder, doing my best but not understanding the point.

No doubt he and Trent noticed my weight and the grimace on my face as my legs extended beyond my true control. It was like I'd desiccated and my muscles had curled into concrete.

There was so much pain trying to iron them out.

"Listen, I really can't…" I trailed off.

I mean there wasn't much more to say.

I couldn't do this.

"If you want to give up, no one would blame you." Eric said, and there was a darkness to his tone that seemed to affect the sky as storm clouds began to gather.

I swallowed, feeling unexplainable pain in this position. I couldn't stand for much longer.

"All it'd take is one step off of that ledge." Eric suggested, and it became evident as the darkness spread he was suggesting a death I'd choose.

"Eric, no this is sick!" Trent protested, starting to lower me down.

Eric fought him, clenching his jaw to hold me up.

My eyes darted to him. Was he serious?

He was. He wasn't backing down either.

I looked over and down into the street cars all those stories below. My stomach turned and I felt vertigo spread through my body. I wasn't afraid of heights; honestly, after what I'd lived through, there wasn't much left to be afraid of.

But in this moment, I was afraid of how much I wanted to take that step…

Then, I realized this must've been a sick joke. I _couldn't_ take the step.

Eric's grip slightly loosened on my arm as if he'd read my mind and I jolted forward.

"Eric!" Trent squealed like a little pig, noting how my weight had jolted forward.

If he had let go, I could've project forward enough to go over the edge as intended. He was showing me that all I had to do was say the word.

Trent kept his grip on me tight and supported.

I frowned, hearing the faint car horns and traffic sounds below.

But for some reason, I couldn't be afraid.

I was oddly calm imagining my death.

Rosalie could collect my life insurance policy. It was honestly worth more than my life at this point.

I thought about the restaurant I'd given my parents.

I thought about how everyone was taken care of.

I could die. I could let go.

Everyone could move on.

Life would continue for everyone I loved. They would be okay. They would pick themselves up and go on with their lives.

But, Rosalie…

Rosalie… Well, she would _have_ to be okay… in time.

And time, she had plenty of it. She would have to move on. Maybe she'd grieve for a little while, but… but she couldn't grieve forever… She'd…

I didn't like to even imagine the thought of her with someone else, but maybe… Maybe she'd find someone that was nothing like me, that she sort of loved in a new and different way - a safe way. Maybe she'd get married again, and… and have that baby she wanted so desperately. Maybe… she'd raise a beautiful daughter to be just like her, and give her a stable, happy life full of certainty.

That little girl would get to have a better life than Rosalie had.

My mind drifted to something my mother had said at dinner a few weeks ago.

Everything she'd done for me was so that I could do _better_ …

If I did this… If I…

I was going to leave Rosalie to pick up the pieces. _Alone_.

And this time… She'd _really_ be alone.

Rosalie would be alone, but would that be better than being tethered to someone who weighed you down?

I mean… my mother left my father because of that reason. My father died for that reason. Sure, there were other reasons, but that's what it boiled down to. It was better for my mom to be alone than to stay with my father, who drug her low.

That… Was that what I was to Rosalie now, nothing more than a weight?

I swallowed, a knot in my stomach.

I hated that thought more than anything.

But still, I peered over the ledge of the building on the busy street below.

"Do you wanna die?" Eric asked.

I paused.

Did I want to die?…

 _Esperanza._

I didn't understand why the Spanish word entered my thoughts as if it had burst through a door and screamed its presence, but it did and the word subversively reeled through my thoughts and it absolutely knocked me to my knees. Literally.

I sunk out of Eric and Trent's arms and down to my knees, immediately covering my face. I blocked out the sight of the busy street below, unable to look at what I'd just almost done.

I'd almost done it… I couldn't bear the thought.

I didn't understand it. I didn't know what was happening. I felt funny.

"Do you _want_ to die?" Eric repeated more forcefully.

I shook my head furiously, and I felt like I was breathing through a coffee stir.

 _Esperanza._

It repeated in a hum in my mind. I didn't notice my mouth was hanging open or that my eyes had turned glassy.

I looked up to his eyes then and took a sharp, shaky inhale. I was breathing heavily.

 _I felt… so strange._

"You feel that weight lifting off your chest?" Eric maneuvered with his cane so he was kneeling in front of me.

I couldn't respond. I was out of my body, looking down on myself - at what I'd become. I didn't recognize this person.

"That's humanity, Emmett." He told me. "You chose to keep living. Why?"

Then, I was overwhelmed.

I felt the wave looming over me finally crash down. I was spinning, caught in the current and I couldn't find up.

It was all too much.

I burst into tears for the first time in a long time. I hadn't cried like this since… since _ever_.

I had kept it together since I was four years old and cognizant enough to remember these things. I had kept it together because I'd had to. I couldn't just break down.

But now… _I did_.

I'd been given permission so now I cried about everything. My home. My daughter. My wife. My father. _Myself._ All of it.

"Eric…" Trent began with concern.

"Shhh…. wait." Eric said under his breath.

I barely processed anything about their conversation because my mind was in a tangle, and not for the usual reasons. It was in a tangle of emotion and processing and…. and _humanity_.

"Hey, you're going to be okay." Eric said calmly. "I know this stage. I know what this is like."

I sobbed, letting out all the pent up emotion.

"I get it. You're being overwhelmed." Eric went on. "Just focus on that one thing. That one thing that kept you here. Latch on and don't let go. Just focus on it. That _one_ thing that made you want to live."

I couldn't catch my breath, and I hunched forward, covering my face with my hands.

I was drowning.

"What is it?" Eric asked, challenging me to focus and hold on to the life boat in this storm.

My throat burned like it had all those years ago on the open ocean coughing up water as I drowned. The arms of the ocean wrestled with me, pulling me down and down into its dark depths.

What had kept me going then was the same as what kept me going now.

I answered simply the translation for the word that ran through my brain again and again and again.

It was all I could latch onto.

"Hope."


	64. Incomplete

_This was a very rewarding but difficult chapter to write, and I hope you enjoy it. This is my heart, and I am so happy to share it with you. Thank you so much for everything. This journey wouldn't have happened without you._

TW: Colette's birthday (segment two)

* * *

 ** _Incomplete - James Bay_**

 _I breathe in slow to compose myself_  
 _But the bleeding heart I left on the shelf_  
 _Started speeding round, beating half to death_  
 _'Cause you're here and you're all mine_

 _So I press my lips down into your neck_  
 _And I stay there and I reconnect_  
 _Bravery I've been trying to be perfect_  
 _It can wait for a while_

 _Scared of hope in my head it's been making me sweat but it turns out_  
 _You're here with your head on my chest_  
 _I should've guessed_

 _The world will turn and we'll grow, we'll learn how to be_  
 _To be incomplete_

 _I breathe out now and we fall back in_  
 _Just like before we can re-begin_  
 _Let your lungs push slow against my skin_  
 _Let it all feel just fine_

 _Gone is the emptiness_  
 _We just take what's best and we move on_  
 _All that the hurt gets left_  
 _I should've guessed_

 _How'd we go without_  
 _I don't know it's look like we've made it again_  
 _Tell me you'll never look down, down_

 _And the world will turn and we'll grow, we'll learn how to be_  
 _To be incom_

* * *

 **Rosalie**

 ** _March, 2 years ago_**

My heart was in my ears. I thought I might pass out.

I blacked out for most of the ride to his office, but noticed my cheeks were wet with tears as I got out of the car and rushed to the revolving door.

"Good morning Miss Rosalie." The door man noticed my haste and held the elevator door for me.

The elevator bubbles lit up one by one until with a ding I was on the 35th floor and the double doors opened in front of me.

I was lightheaded and barely noticed the receptionist greeting me as I passed.

I was laser-focused, my heart beating faster and faster.

I saw him through the glass door of the conference room, the love of my life, the light of my days, my partner, my best friend, and…

My knees buckled, but I started to run, pushed onward by my adrenaline.

"Emmett!" I cried, my voice high-pitched and in my throat as I tore open the door.

I watched him, standing with both his hands propped on the conference table, a dozen people seated around him as he spoke.

As he saw me, he stood tall. He read my intensity just in time to catch me as I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and burying my face in his shoulder.

I was shaking, my voice blocked by a lump in my throat.

"Well, I missed you too." He half-laughed in my ear and I didn't mind that we were in front of a room of people.

I kissed him. When I kissed him, he could understand. I still couldn't find words.

"What's going on?" He pulled away, noticing I was crying, but also sensing it wasn't out of sadness.

I was grinning too wildly for that. He responded to the smile on my face, and one spread across his without even knowing why.

My hands were grasping and shaking as I held tight to him.

"We're having a baby!" I finally gasped.

Without waiting for his reaction I imagined what she would look like, her cute little nose, her smile, her eyes, her tiny fingers and toes. My heart was thumping; my breathing was shallow. I was overwhelmed, hyper-ventilating, and speechless.

I felt his arms tighten around me, but he was all of a sudden unbelievably careful when handling my body.

"A baby?" He pulled away, his voice was painted with excitement as his eyes danced over me as if he'd be able to tell. "Really?"

I nodded with a high pitched mmhmm, and it made me shiver. His voice made it sound real.

He spun me around, with a joyful laugh and I smiled, really smiled. My heart felt like it was going to burst.

"Tell me again." He insisted.

"We're going to have a baby…" I breathed again, as he set me down, brushing my hair out of my face and kissing me.

The words were heavier and heavier the more I said them.

"Rosalie…." Emmett looked at me like I always hoped he would look at me - with unbridled love and pride.

He was proud of me.

"We're having a baby." He repeated with a thousand watt smile.

Emmett's voice rang out and a round of applause erupted through the room, grins on the faces of all of his coworkers.

"You know we always love an impromptu 'Bring Your Wife to Work Day' but this absolutely takes the cake." Paul was grinning ear to ear as he bear hugged Emmett, and I just giggled with unbreakable joy.

"I'm so happy for you both." He hugged me, picking me up off the ground.

Emmett watched me though in a new way, like I was all of a sudden made of porcelain and needed to be handled with more care.

I blushed happily. I reveled in his attention.

"Take the day, go celebrate being a father." Carlisle clapped Emmett on the back and he beamed, his eyes on fire.

"Are you sure?" Emmet raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, Emmett may not think so, but I can take this case." Maggie teased.

Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Congratulations, Rosalie." Carlisle kissed me on the cheek, and I couldn't stop smiling.

My heart leapt. This was it.

Emmett had never been happier with me. After all he'd done for me, this was something I could do _for him_ , and this was the biggest and best thing ever.

I was a goddess, and my body was amazing. I could do something spectacular, yet so natural.

"Let me take your picture." One of the newer women on the team held out her hand, a kind smile on her face. "You're going to want to remember this moment."

I handed her my phone with a shaky hand and Emmett put his arm around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head as he squeezed me close.

I looked up at him, loving him more in this moment than I ever had. He looked nervous, and joyful, and assured and confident and fulfilled and, like a man…

He was the father of my children…

As she handed me my phone back, Emmett looked over my shoulder at the photo.

"God, what a milf." He winked and I laughed, fully, like I had when we first got married and we were seeing the world, not a single worry in my heart.

"Get out of here," Paul encouraged, and Emmett swiftly gathered his things to the noise of his coworkers chattering and congratulating and kissing and hugging me.

Emmett took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine as we walked through the doors.

"We're having a baby!" Emmett thrust up our enjoined hands in a victorious gesture, announcing it to the entire office, which erupted in smiles and applause.

"Emmett.…" Was all I could get out in a giggle, as he walked me to the elevator, pressing the button excitedly, like a child.

"Rose, you're going to be the most incredible mother in the world." Emmett told me those perfect words in that perfect voice of his.

The doors opened and an older woman with a coffee in her hand almost spilled it because Emmett startled her by taking her by the hand, and with a grand gesture led her over the threshold, twirling her under his arm happily like we were in a romantic comedy world.

"My beautiful wife is having my baby!" He told her, a tremendous and victorious smile on his face.

I felt my cheeks get hot, and she smiled a genuine smile full of the removed congratulation of a complete stranger as Emmett and I got in the elevator together.

As the door closed, he swung me into his arms and kissed me.

I imagined his big brown eyes on our baby, and it made my head spin.

* * *

 ** _Two Septembers Ago_**

"Rosalie, you can do this." The doctor coached me, leaning forward.

I shook my head, somehow still able to cry tears after all this time.

My knees pronated in the stirrups and I wanted to die right here. There was no more point in living.

There was so much pain that reality had begun to pass in flashes.

Nightmarish flashes.

I was just so _tired_ …

Emmett stood beside me, and as another wave of pain came I squeezed his hand so hard I could've broken his bones.

"Rosalie, you're going to have to be strong." The doctor said in a serious tone, but his eyes were on Emmett like he expected him to do something.

"I can't. I can't. I can't." I panted, then a scream came out that rocked through my whole body.

Emmett took a deep breath that I felt in my own lungs.

"Rose, you _can._ " Emmett finally spoke to me and I looked up at him, my bottom lip trembling.

I shook my head, crying tearless cries.

"Listen to me… _you can_." He kissed my sweating forehead.

I shook my head, closing my eyes tightly.

This wasn't happening. It was a bad dream.

"She's… She's not ready… It's… It's too early." I said in desperation.

"I know.… I know. It is…" He kissed me again, and I sensed desperation in him too.

"But, you have to do this, Rosalie." Emmett told me, taking my face in his hands and bringing me back to earth. "I'm going to be here the whole time. I'm not leaving you, and you're not doing this alone. You _can_ do this."

"I don't want to, Em. I don't."

"I know…" He said, his eyes dark and heavy.

I saw pain in them that mirrored my own.

"I don't…" I cried.

"Rosalie." He cut me off and said my name, but he said so much more.

His eyes held mine with an iron grip, but his gaze caressed my face and I exhaled.

He looked at me for a long, lingering moment once more then… I nodded.

I had to.

There was pain like I'd never imagined, then after the pain came a euphoria that could never be matched.

"Rose…" Emmett said my name again his eyes wide and full of an emotion I couldn't understand, but again in just my name he was saying a thousand other things. I looked from his eyes toward the whirlwind of movement I couldn't process or understand.

I thought I heard them ask Emmett if he wanted to cut the cord.

I couldn't hear anything clearly but my own breath though. I was underwater.

I was afraid to look.

I watched Emmett though because I could focus on his face. Everything else was a blur. He shook his head, turning away and toward me.

I blinked tiredly, and Emmett kissed me with undeniable sadness that washed over me. I tasted salt, not knowing if it was my sweat or tears. I didn't even entertain the thought that they were his.

Then, as my eyes refocused and I could take in the room, I saw the tiniest flash of a pink blanket and I smiled.

I reached both of my exhausted arms out for the tiniest baby this world's ever seen. She was shorter than the palm of my hand, and no one could tell me that she didn't look like a baby yet and looked more alien than a creature of this world.

No one could tell me that, because all I saw when I looked at her was my little angel.

"Hey baby," I cooed.

I didn't notice that Emmett had turned his head or was wiping his own tears with his sleeve. I'd taken my hand out of his so he stepped back to have a second to breathe. I didn't notice one of the nurses had wiped a tear from her cheek. I didn't notice the doctor take his mask off and take a deep breath. I didn't notice how not a soul moved.

The world had shifted. There was nothing else but this beautiful little girl.

She didn't cry. She didn't open her eyes. Her nose, mouth, and eyes had barely started to form. Her skin was bright red and transparent, so I imagined I could see her little heart beating in that tiny chest.

She didn't look like a baby but, she was perfect.

Before labor, they'd asked Emmett and I if we wanted to see her. We didn't know how to answer so we both just nodded, and they'd tried to explain that she wouldn't look like what we expected and to be prepared for that.

But, nothing could have prepared me for _this_.

When she was placed in my arms, I was in awe. Adrenaline pulsed through my tired veins and I was sure I could've stopped a speeding train for this baby with how I was feeling right now.

I'd kill for her.

The doctors were all standing stone still around me.

He didn't say anything.

But, I wouldn't have heard if he had.

"She's so beautiful." I marveled.

Emmett sat down next to me then, and I looked up to find his eyes. They were heavy on me.

"Isn't she?…" I smiled and Emmett nodded.

Emmett had come back into himself, and he kissed my sweaty, wet hair.

"You're amazing, Rose." He told me in a whisper. "You're so amazing. You did so good."

I swallowed, letting my eyes dance down to that perfect little face again.

The minutes passed in a fog, but they were also the clearest minutes on earth that I had ever spent. It was like a veil had been lifted and I could access every inch of my brain's power.

Every nerve ending fired, and as I held the tiniest baby in the world, I couldn't believe my body had made her. I couldn't fathom that she was half me and half the man I loved most in the world.

I couldn't process.

Little fingers moved and I inhaled sharply.

I imagined they got it wrong.

My eyes danced over her again and again wanting to remember every inch of her.

She looked so peaceful…

"She's perfect." Emmett marveled, stroking my hair.

I felt his eyes on me, but I kept my eyes on her.

"Emmett… Do you think… Maybe?" I breathed, looking over at him.

I read heartbreak and tragedy in his eyes as he swallowed, not responding, just kissing me on the cheek.

I sang to her and told her everything good about the world and her father.

Emmett traced his fingers over my hairline as the minutes passed by all too quickly.

"Do you want to hold her?" I asked him even though I really didn't want to offer.

He could see it in my eyes, and I watched him take a deep breath.

"Have you thought of a name?" The nurse asked before Emmett could say anything.

"Her name's Colette." Emmett responded, looking from me to the only other girl that could make his eyes flood with that kind of love.

His eyes… I wondered if those eyes that would never open would've been exactly like his.

* * *

 **Today**

I willed myself to smile, fighting the rapid, hyperventilating breaths rising in my throat.

My eyes could _not_ be red right now.

I gritted my teeth together, clearing my throat and pushing the tears off my cheek.

The momentum of my breathing slowed, and I practiced a smile.

He'd know it was fake. He always did.

My legs felt like Jell-O as I did a final pat of my eyes and quick pinch of my cheeks to add some color and life to my pale skin then pushed open the door.

"Rosalie…How are you? Does he know to expect you? I mean, you know how he hates you coming to these…" Jill sighed, standing from her rolling chair at the front desk.

Her eyes were full of pity and concern, but I stood my ground, handing her my coat without a word.

I didn't need my coat anymore.

"That's Prada." I scolded as she flippantly hung it on the coat rack behind her.

"Sorry." She smiled a tight, fake smile.

My throat tightened.

I could kill her.

"Rosalie's here!" Jill announced to the room as she sidestepped in front of me to slow me down.

I knew she meant well, but nothing could stand in my way when I wanted to see him.

And this time… he'd asked for me.

Usually he hated every second I spent here with him as he tried to relearn how to do every day things like opening and closing his hands, talking, sitting up, standing, and the one that was still evading him - walking.

He was so strong and he'd get through this.

I just had to keep pretending to be strong _for_ him.

I heard a couple quiet groans of protest as my presence was announced, knowing that the physical and occupational therapists weren't exactly my biggest fans because they saw how depressed it made him when I'd come during a session.

He'd always give up when I was around.

I wasn't exactly super bubbly and positive to him, but they had to be.

It did make me sick how their tones of encouragement were so saccharine that it sounded like they were talking to a child or a dog. It was patronizing, and that's not what he needed.

Yes, he'd had a brain injury, but he wasn't stupid and inept.

I wasn't naive enough to believe that they hadn't done this with hundreds of people before him. This was their job, and they'd been trained to do it, sure, but I just hated the sickly sweet way they talked to him, and I imagined he did too.

They vehemently disagreed with me of course, saying that after significant trauma like this, he had to be as positive as he could to get through this.

I just thought he had lost his motivation…

"Rosalie." I heard him say in a mixture of relief and nervousness.

Just the sound of his voice made me strong enough though. I reveled in the sound of it now even more than I had before. He'd gotten significantly better command of his voice and language back, and though it still sometimes took him longer to say what he meant, the doctors hadn't thought he'd ever even speak again.

He proved them wrong on this, and I knew he could prove them wrong on plenty of other things too.

"I'm here." I said, trying to keep my voice even as my heels clicked on the tile.

Before I rounded the corner, I took a deep breath and held it in as I balled my hands into fists like I had to every time I came to see him. It took every ounce of strength I had every time I looked at him.

But especially…. right now.

My heart pounded out of my chest, but I rounded that corner like I'd done a couple dozen times before now.

His big brown eyes met mine and I knew I could do anything.

It gave me confidence, but it also made me want to break down and cry.

"I just… I had to come try again." Emmett looked away from me.

His eyes looked deep in their sockets, the skin around his eyes red and bright to contrast with his pale face, completely void of its usual warm olive tones now.

Emmett's fingers were gawkily wrapped around two bars and his hands shook as he held himself in an awkward standing position between them. His knees were pronated and his back was curved forward in a sign of struggle.

Felix had his forearms hooked under Emmett's arms and as he found my gaze, his eyes flashed with displeasure as Emmett gave up.

Felix lowered him into the wheelchair behind him.

"How are you doing?" I gritted my teeth together, managing a small smile of pleasantry.

My heart started racing. I hated seeing him so depressed, and it was killing me to see him like this, but I was just indulging in the fact that I was seeing him at all.

"Jill," I said, holding out my purse for her to take.

I knew it absolutely irritated her to no end that I treated her like my housemaid, so I made sure to do it more and more often.

I walked over to stand in front of Emmett, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly.

He didn't say anything, but he was able to slowly lift his chin to find my gaze again.

"Stop being so vain." I said, reaching out my arms now to grab the belt around his ribs that made it easier to hold onto him.

"He's been pushing himself a lot today, Rosalie." Felix seemed to scold me as I used every bit of strength I had to try and pull Emmett to his feet. "I don't know how much he's got left."

Even though he protested, Felix stood beside him to help me pull him up.

"Rose…" Emmett looked at me with shame in his eyes.

Regardless, I needed to feel his body on mine any way I could. I needed to be physically close to him…

I wrapped my arms around Emmett's waist, suppressing a grimace as I supported his weight.

He'd gotten too thin to look like himself, and as I fought for a good grip on him, I felt his ribs under my palms.

As his head hung and his forehead pressed into my shoulder, I felt his breath on my neck. I shivered, keeping my eyes above the other five people in the room that were staring at us silently.

I avoided turning my head to see the scar on the back of Emmett's neck that was now thankfully starting to hide under his growing curly hair.

It killed me to see it. It just reminded me of pain that he didn't deserve.

"Have you been smoking?" I asked, noticing the smell of his skin.

He nodded.

I sighed.

"I hate you–" Emmett started, his voice low and almost a growl.

My heart dropped to my stomach, and my eyes started to burn, but I had to pull it together.

He wouldn't hate me forever.

"You _hate_ me?" I questioned as I finally turned my head, maneuvering him so he had to look at me now.

I tried not to notice how the staff tittered around us.

His forehead pressed into mine in part for support of his weight.

"S-seeing me like this." He whispered, finishing his sentence. "I hate… you… seeing me… like this…"

I knew he'd been pushing himself because he only stuttered and struggled with English when he was extremely exhausted.

I pulled back, holding his chin and looking into his eyes.

"I don't care how, I just want to see you." I said softly, barely audibly as I kissed him quickly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and sigh of relief that he really didn't hate me, but it still broke my heart that he was so filled with humiliation.

"I _needed_ to see you." Emmett breathed.

I shivered at the intensity of his voice and pulled away to look at him.

"You were crying." Emmett didn't ask.

He observed.

"Why?" He asked, his eyes darting over me as if he could see it written on my face.

I didn't respond.

"Tell me something good." I commanded, turning to look at Felix.

"Well, he came voluntarily which is always good, and he's pretty much mastered his fine motor skills again." Felix said swiftly and clinically.

I nodded, feeling the weight of Emmett's head on my shoulder get heavier.

"Stand up tall for Rosalie." Felix encouraged as he pulled Emmett upward again from where he'd sank into the awkwardness of his legs and feet.

As his right knee buckled, Emmett's arms slid forward on the two rails on either side of him where he was trying to hold himself up.

I stutter stepped back as I tried to hold him, another man stepping in to grab Emmett's other side.

I was able to let go of some of the weight I was carrying.

Our faces were inches apart and I looked up at Emmett with wide eyes.

I saw the dying embers of the fires in his beautiful brown eyes.

Of all the obvious physical injury he had, the biggest and most devastating one was in his heart.

I let go of his waist, stepping back a little while the two men on either side of him readjusted to account for the weight shift.

"Em, it's okay." I mumbled, justifying how tired he was and how he was starting to regress since he was exhausted.

I watched his hands tremble and his knuckles turn white on the rails beside him as he clenched his jaw.

I stepped forward and into the curve under his hanging head so I could look up and kiss him, _really_ kiss hm.

He kissed me back this time, but I tasted pain on his lips. His depression was so intense that it worried Vera, but with all the medication and adjustments and treatments going on, depression was a seemingly minor issue for him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and then slid my fingers down his skin so my hands were on either side of his face.

It was silent, like we were the only two in the room.

I saw the debilitating frustration in his eyes more today than I'd ever seen it. Felix was right. He was exhausted.

"Can we have a second?" I asked, my heart racing out of my chest.

"Sure." Felix nodded, and soon everyone had been ushered out of the room.

Emmett was comforted by this, and kissed me in thankfulness.

I tasted the smoke on his lips, but I leaned in again regardless.

His hands came to either side of my face.

"You shouldn't have to do this." He said against my lips, and in his touch, I felt his sadness.

"I shouldn't have had to wonder if I was going to be a widow at 23 years old." I twisted his words.

"No wife should _ever_ have to watch their husband go through the hell I've watched you go through."

His brown eyes looked over me before he gave me a light nod, seeming to accept that I had taken his statement and twisted it into my own.

I made my point.

"But, I would do it over and over again to see you come out the other side of it. Em, we're in this together."

He leaned forward, and I put my hand on the center of his chest to stabilize him. I felt his heart beating, strong, fast, beautiful…

I had to tell him.

I kept my hand on his chest as the two men on either side of him steadied him back to his feet, then left the room as well.

Emmett's arms shook as he held himself up, but he wasn't budging. He was staying so strong…

He clenched his jaw, fighting…

For me.

My heart raced.

"They told me your heart _shouldn't_ be beating, Em. But, it's beating anyways." I said in a ghostly whisper, as I wrapped my arm around his waist to hold him up, indulging in the sound of his heart against my ear.

His chin rested on the top of my head and I helped with his weight, feeling his spine straighten and his hips come forward now to be standing up straighter and closer to me.

I reveled in him standing close to me because he hadn't been in so long.

"Emmett, you shouldn't be _here_ with me." I said quietly, looking up at him now.

I looked up into his handsome face and saw the remnant of a soft smile, but his eyes were still empty of his soul that was so vibrant, beautiful, and thriving before.

I longed to reach in and pull him out.

I could… Just… a little… more…

I kissed him, this time with so much more passion and haste than I had in a long time and readjusted to hold onto him.

I held his face in my hands, kissing him again nervously as my heart began to race.

I took a deep breath against his mouth, feeling him drop his forehead to mine.

He felt it. His instinct had picked up on it. He felt the new passion and vibrance in my lips. He could feel it.

And I could feel him.

"And… I shouldn't… We shouldn't be…" My voice shook just as much as I'd imagined it would, and at the change in my tone he pulled back to look at me with a desperate glance, his eyes searching my face.

"But… but I am and… and we are… and…"

His big brown eyes held his questions, and I longed to answer them. I could. I just…

"I know you think I've kept something from you… And you're right. I have because… I… Well, it's not a good time… And… I've… I've been thinking about h-how to tell you, but I didn't know how you'd…" I felt my voice tremble, but I kept his gaze strongly.

"Rosalie?…" He breathed, his big brown eyes full of a panicked desperation as I imagined he followed my thoughts but tried to remain distant as a way to avoid anticipation that could still be misled.

But, this time… It was real. I wouldn't crush his anticipation. I would feed it.

"Yes…" I felt the corners of my mouth turn up in a little smile as my hands went from his face to smooth over the front of my sweater.

He shook his head to seem to argue with me, those beautiful eyes wide in apparent shock.

" _Yes_." I insisted. "I am… _We are_ …"

"Rosalie…" He exhaled, his big brown eyes darting over me, searching and fixating on the way I held my hands on my stomach. "Are you sure?…."

"Yes. Emmett… We're having a baby." I confirmed for the very first time out loud.

It felt like I'd shot a firework from my tongue with the way my words sparkled.

He shook his head.

"No…" He jolted forward in an exhale, but caught himself to push back to a standing position over me.

His arms shook, and I wrapped my arms around him now.

"Hey, it's okay…" I breathed into his neck, and pressed my palms into his back.

I used every bit of my strength to hold him up. His eyes shut tightly.

I felt my smile fade as I watched his response. It was unlike what I'd imagined, but then again, this whole scene was far from what I imagined too.

"Emmett…" I started again, feeling my bottom lip tremble.

Then, something unexpected happened and he ducked his forehead to my shoulder and cried.

My eyes went wide as I held him even tighter, not knowing what else to say or do.

I felt his body get heavier and his tears begin to wet my skin.

I closed my eyes feeling my heart in my throat.

His cries shocked me beyond anything because he _didn't do this_. He didn't break down like this.

Emmett couldn't process, and I wondered if I'd put too much on him.

I worried about how he was going to react, but nothing could've prepared me for this.

He couldn't find the breath to form words as he sobbed. I was heartbroken, feeling the weight on his soul.

"I… Rosalie, I…." He gasped brokenly.

"Shhh…" I longed to calm his spirit.

I was nervous I'd overwhelmed him. He was drowning and I'd caused the waves.

He sunk, and I sunk with him until we were both in the floor and tangled in one another's arms.

I swallowed, curling up tighter to him, letting him kiss me again and again and again.

I didn't need oxygen. I needed him.

As we kissed, I started to cry too until we were both expelling every bit of darkness or joy we'd had pent up.

He had years and years of it.

I did too.

We leaned on each other, balancing as we shared our weight.

We shared every ounce of our pain, and I imagined fusing into one body as we held each other.

The world could have been apocalyptically falling around us, but in this moment we shared a haven.

"Tell me again." He requested in a tired, rough voice full of emotion.

It reminded me of a day long gone. But now, now things were different.

We were different.

"We're having a baby." I responded with emotion and weight in my voice.

I felt the baby move at the sound of my voice.

I reached out for his hand now.

He drew it back initially, but I reached out again keeping my eye contact with him.

"Trust me." I murmured.

I watched him swallow, a cry catching in his throat. This phrase seemed to hit home as he extended his hand to me.

His eyes were dark and sunken and red, but they held something new in them. He trusted me and watched me as I guided his palm to my stomach, under my sweater.

He inhaled sharply at the feeling of my skin and I inhaled sharply at how cold his hand was.

Emmett withdrew his icy fingers again, and looked at me with an odd expression.

"How?.. Why?…. I just…." Emmett asked in a strained tone.

I was barely showing because I had such a small frame before, but there was no denying that I was pregnant when I had taken off my coat and manipulated the fabric of my heavy sweater.

He returned his hand to my skin, looking over my body with careful eyes. Now as he felt the new shape of my body, he believed.

I could tell he was trying to add it up.

"My birthday. Do you remember?" I felt a little naughtiness enter my smile and glimmer through my eyes.

I tried to get him to respond to it.

He nodded, but still wouldn't look at me.

"That far…" He swallowed.

It was less of a question and more of an awestruck statement.

I confirmed.

"Yes…" I felt nervousness creep in. "Five months…"

He made a face.

"No…" Emmett mumbled.

I didn't know what to say.

"21 weeks." I told him, knowing this would register with him.

His eyes found mine and we exchanged a thousand words in just a second of our eyes tethering to one another.

Neither of us had to say a word.

The core of my being communicated for the both of us and I felt a few kicks at my center.

Emmett's hands pulled away swiftly.

I smiled at him.

His eyes were wild before they found their center and he exhaled in joy and relief, a smile coming to his face too.

"We're… having a baby." He breathed, nothing but absolute relief in his eyes.

I cried again now, but these were happy tears.

"Come here." His voice was a low rumble, as I curled up into his lap, unable to think about much more than breathing in and out.

He brushed my hair softly, and kissed my forehead.

"Rosalie… Forgive me." He begged me, pulling back to hold my face and get me to look square into his eyes.

There was nothing to forgive. I watched his eyes flooding with emotions I couldn't catch, process, or understand. But, for the first time in a long time, he was.

He was processing and understanding. He was letting himself back in to his mind and body. He was letting his heart show to me. He was revealing his soul, and sharing it with me. Every inch of it. There were no shadows I couldn't reach.

Not anymore.

I just shook my head.

"What are the doctors saying?" Concern rose in his voice.

"Everything's okay. Everything's good." I assured him. "Really good."

He still didn't seem satisfied, so I told him again in different words.

"The baby's fine. I'm… _fine_. It's okay. Really." I said again.

He paused for a long second.

"Is it?…"

"I haven't found out yet." I responded. "The doctors know but I…"

I just didn't want to know without him.

His eyes narrowed like he was trying to remember something and needed to catch the memory by the tail.

"It's a girl." He told me in a confidently ghostly tone.

I furrowed my brow in confusion at his insistence.

"I met her… In a dream." He told me as plain as day.

My mind tried to follow his, but he was far away. I didn't understand.

"She's got blonde hair, like you. Brown eyes like me…" Emmett went on in a mumble, but there was something so sincere in his tone and eyes that took my breath away. "She laughs a lot. We make her happy… So happy."

He genuinely believed this. And who's to say he hadn't met our child in whatever limbos they'd had his soul in over these past five months. He'd met her.

He _knew_ her.

I was irrationally jealous.

Even though I was carrying her in my body, _he knew her_.

I placed my hands on my center, wanting to know her…

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, betrayal in his eyes and voice as he breathed the words full of emotion.

I swallowed.

"You weren't ready." I responded, standing my ground.

He swallowed, looking down at my hands on my stomach.

"I understand." Emmett seemed to accept this.

For a long silent moment, we just held each other, allowing ourselves time to understand each other deeper than words.

"Rosalie… I have something to tell you." He whispered privately only to me.

He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin and making me shiver.

"Anything. What is it?" I pushed back and brushed his hair off his face, my eyes searching for clues.

I only found darkness.

"I was up on the roof earlier…. After… Group…" He told me where he'd been, not knowing I had already been there waiting on him.

I just nodded.

"I was smoking because…" He took a deep breath. I reached out for him.

He let me.

"Because I thought it didn't matter anymore." He whispered privately only to me, keeping my eyes so I could only be blinded by his sincerity. "I was thinking about killing myself."

I didn't know what to say.

Nothing about that could process.

I reached out for him, holding him tight against me wanting to impress my fingers upon his skin and have him melt into me. I wanted never to part from him ever again.

"No. Don't _do_ that to me." I gasped, grasping for him like he was sand slipping through my fingers.

I couldn't breathe. I panicked.

"Stop. Rose, it's…" He told me, but I wasn't hearing any of it.

I shook with the fear of losing him.

It felt like I was still losing him.

"You can't…" I cried into his chest, relinquishing all control.

"I won't." He held me back, speaking against my mouth as I kissed him fiercely.

As if this would somehow tether him back to this world…

I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe.

"Shhh… Stop. It's okay…" He pleaded with me. "Stop. Really."

I did the best I could to calm my cries as he held my face in his hands.

"Listen, I thought about _you_. And I thought about Hope. It was all I needed. It was enough…"

I let him kiss me, reveling in his contact. I couldn't get enough of him. I craved more and I craned my neck to kiss him again.

"We need you." I breathed, cradling the baby as it fluttered in my stomach.

"I know." He accepted, his eyes on fire. "And I need _you_. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

We kissed, time stopping in its tracks, allowing this moment to linger in space.

"Rosalie… I think her name is Hope… _Esperanza_." He finally told me, brushing my hair off my forehead and behind my ear.

His fingers on my skin calmed me, and his fiery eyes tethered me.

"Okay." I nodded.

Those beautiful big brown eyes of his, I imagined were just forming anew inside of my center… on his child.

 _Esperanza_.


	65. Spring

_**Spring - Vivaldi Recomposed by Max Richter**_

* * *

 **Emmett: A Letter**

 _I'm trying, baby._

 _I'm really trying for you, so think twice when you go to make fun of me when you get to be a teenager and think I'm uncool. Remember, I'm trying… for you. I'm learning how to write again, and I figured since you're about the size of a pineapple now, I'd relearn to write by writing you a letter._

 _Forming the letters is the easy part, it's stringing them together that's the problem. This entire letter may be nonsensical, and one day when you're old enough to read this, you might need a key to decode it - or you might never be able to see past the scribbles._

 _Just know I'm trying. I'm always trying for you, and I always will._

 _I am going to misspell a million words and my letters might jump or sink on the lines because my brain can't really handle the sequencing yet, but I'm trying._

 _I want to try._

 _You were pretty active today. You can't sit still, just like me. Your mom doesn't mind though. She likes knowing you're in there, and you're doing okay._

 _It makes her happy, and when she's happy… Wow._

 _You seem happy too, and you seem to like the sound of my voice. At least, I like to imagine that you do._

 _I read to you today. I'm relearning how to do that too. That used to be one of my very favorite things to do and it absolutely killed me when I couldn't make the letters go together anymore and make any sense._

 _I used to love stories, and the power of words… And when I couldn't take part in that anymore, I felt pretty alone._

 _Now though, things are better and they get better every single day. You and your mom make sure of that._

 _I'm not alone._

 _When I read, I can't remember everything like I used to, but reading aloud to you definitely helps even if I can only read for a half hour at a time tops._

 _Hopefully you like the Hemingway stories I've been reading you. You definitely seem to. Your mom says you move around and kick during all the best parts._

 _I personally have always loved Hemingway - as a writer, not necessarily as a man - and of course his contribution to literature must be maintained, but tomorrow, we'll move on to my favorite book To Kill A Mockingbird. It was the first book I ever read in English._

 _Harper Lee wrote that one, and she was such a strong, brilliant woman. You will grow up to be one too. You certainly have so many good influences in this area._

 _You're a lucky girl. You'll grow up in a totally different world than your mother did, and for that I am so thankful. I can't stand the idea of the world barring itself to you, not opening its doors of opportunity to you just because you're a woman. I can't stand the idea of you not having role models in leadership positions that look like you._

 _Your mother has been so strong in the fight against this, and you will live in a better world because of women like her. I'll bet you didn't know you're renting a space for nine months inside the strongest woman in the world._

 _You've been in the oven for eight whole months now, and while your mom and I can't wait to meet you - we don't want you showing up early - so stay put, little girl. Hopefully you don't get your patience from your mother or I because we don't have very much of it._

 _But, I need just a little more time to figure some things out for myself._

 _I don't know anything about being a father, and I already know that you deserve the very best kind. I want to make sure I am ready, though I never feel like I truly will be._

 _However, it's wild because as much as I need more time, I'm wishing it away because I want you here so badly._

 _Waiting for you has been the most difficult thing I've ever done which is saying something considering all I've been through. I never want you to ever believe the world is anything less than beautiful, wonderful, and perfect, but on the day that you realize it isn't I'll be with you._

 _I'll help you see, just like I helped your mother see, that even amidst the darkness of this world, there's something lighter just around the corner._

 _It's not all bad, E. Especially not with hope like you in the world._

 _I worry about you constantly, and the hardest part about it is that I can't do anything yet. All I can do is wait for you to keep growing exactly like you should. I guess I should trust you. You can do this, little sprout. You're a fighter, and I already know you're strong and capable and brilliant._

 _You're going to grow just like you should…_

 _The doctors say everything's good with you. They say you're doing well, but I won't believe it until I've got you in my arms and I can protect you myself. You might hate that about me one day, and think I'm overbearing or overprotective._

 _You might roll your eyes when I call to check on you because you're out late. You might not understand why I won't let you go somewhere or why I insist on not letting you out of my sight._

 _I've wanted you so badly for so long, my darling, sweet little girl. I'd move mountains for you; I'd kill for you. I haven't met you yet, but Ialready feel such a strong connection to you; my blood is coursing through your veins. That's something magical - something otherworldly I can't wrap my head around yet. You're so perfect,yet you have pieces of me, someone so imperfect…_

 _I guess you just make me better._

 _I already adore you, and I know you're going to get anything you want because I'll be a sucker for you. You'll definitely take advantage of this, I imagine._

 _I already love you more than anything in this entire world- well, almost._

 _Let me tell you about your mother._

 _Your mother is the most beautiful, kind, brilliant person in the world. She is strong, resilient, and independent. She will teach you how to be the best kind of woman. You have such a spectacular role model in her, and you are so lucky to have her in your corner. She will fight for you ruthlessly and she is fiercely loyal._

 _She can be a little intense, and I can see you resenting that about her… She has high standards and she will always expect the best from you._

 _But you can always rise to those standards, never think that you can't. You can and you will._

 _However, even on the days that you don't - the days with rain clouds, the days you miss your mark, and the days you don't recognize yourself, we'll love you unconditionally. Nothing you do could ever make us turn our backs on you._

 _We'll never give up on you. We can't._

 _We haven't given up on you this far._

 _Baby, you have no idea what your mother would do for you because you will never know what she's already done for you._

 _She's wanted you so terribly._

 _I've wanted you so terribly._

 _And, I can't believe you're almost here. You're a miracle, E._

 _That's how you got your name._

 _Esperanza._

 _You came for us in our darkest times and you gave us hope. You picked us up from out depths. You saved us._

 _You saved me._

 _I didn't know I could feel this connected to you without knowing you yet, but there's a part of me that feels like I've known you for a thousand years. I know that sounds wild, but hear me out._

 _I think I dreamed you up when I was in a coma after the accident. I saw your face, heard your little giggle, smelled your blonde curls. Wherever our souls are before we are born or after we die might be closer than we imagined, and we met each other at the border cross over._

 _I was supposed to die, but I'm selfish though, and when my soul saw yours was on its way to earth, I couldn't let you go alone. I jumped back into my body, but I wasn't supposed to and maybe that's why it hasn't been super easy to readjust._

 _At least that's something fantastical I've imagined…_

 _Esperanza, I couldn't think of you growing up, losing your first tooth, going to ballet classes, learning to walk without me._

 _I want to be there with you. I want to be there for you._

 _But, I want to be there for me too. You make me better, like I said. And, after all the darkness I've seen in my life, I want to see the light that you will be as you grow up in a happy, safe, beautiful home._

 _I want you to have everything I didn't have._

 _I want you to be happy and feel loved._

 _I want you to go to a good school and make friends. I want you to experience the best things about this world._

 _I want you to grow up._

 _And… I deserve to see that happen._

 _Before, I never imagined I did, and I think that's what's changed._

 _Every single day is a new challenge, but I'm determined to live now. I'm breaking the cycle of my father and his father before him. I'm not letting go when things get hard. I'm going to ask for help when I need it, and then one day I won't need it. One day, I can be better enough to be there for when you need help._

 _My mom, your grandma, told me once that she did everything she did so that I could do better…_

 _Now, I understand._

 _Esperanza, my darling, I've crawled through hell to make sure that you have the chance to be better than me…_

 _And though you will find out it won't be hard to beat your old man, you can top me in so many ways. And you will. You will soar. You will have wings that won't be clipped or weighed down._

 _You have no limits, no boundaries to what you can accomplish and who you can be. Your mother and I made sure of that._

 _We love you endlessly, our Hope._

 _You have reminded me of who I am, but more importantly the man I want to be. There's no going back to who I once was, only forward, and you've helped me craft that man. I know who I have to be to make sure you can soar._

 _I will become that for you. I swear._

* * *

 ** _Bella_**

 _One Year Later; June 20th_

My heart beat quickly in my chest as I stared in awe at the tall ornately metaled French doors in front of me.

I felt a tiny squeeze on my fingers and looked down.

When her green eyes met mine, I couldn't help but smile down on my baby girl and swing Clarke up into my arms.

"Pretty." She told me, pressing her tiny hands into my cheeks so I would look into those emerald eyes and see her unwavering sincerity and unconditional love.

I kissed her nose and she giggled sweetly.

"Hey, you stole my line." Edward teased her, stealing her from my arms and swinging her around as she squealed with laughter.

Both of their smiles illuminated my world as I reached for the doorbell.

Before it could even ring, the door swung open and none other than Alice Whitlock appeared in the gust of wind.

Echoing the previous squeal of my daughter, Alice tossed her arms around me in delight.

"Bella! I'm so happy to see you!" She shrieked swaying with me and pressing her palms into my back.

Edward and I were still in Brooklyn. We hadn't moved, but we'd gotten so busy with Clarke and Edward's new job after law school graduation and the recent whirlwind of my first book deal that it'd been a bit since we all hung out together.

I had written about six people in New York and their journeys navigating life, love, and family.

I had written about all of _us._

It was honest, and true, and… about my _family_.

Alice and Jasper continued in the happiness of _their_ little family, and they certainly had their hands full with their trio of little ones. Alec was starting first grade, Jane was a fully functioning toddler that was currently always asking 'What's that?' and Harper had just gotten the confidence to start walking and exploring the world around her so she was like a shadow to her older sister.

Alice's article on Rosalie's miscarriage and subsequent essay series she'd published about postpartum depression in TIME magazine had won her a Pulitzer, and she was attending conferences all over the world for journalism and speaking to struggling women. Jasper's restaurant had been so wildly successful that he had to expand and even open two more - one in Greenwich Village and one in SoHo.

Alice and Jasper had been so helpful with Clarke's arrival and Alice made sure I could make the transition into motherhood with ease. She'd answered my questions when I called her in the middle of the night in a panic.

Alice had also made sure Clarke had the best baby wardrobe money could buy.

Well, almost…

I noticed a fluff of white tulle barreling toward me from the other side of the door, and I knelt with outstretched arms for the actual best dressed baby in the free world.

"Hey!" I sang, as she toddled toward me with an exhilarated squeal after running off somewhere she wasn't supposed to be.

Her feet got tangled up and she fell forward onto her hands and knees with a thud.

She'd just started to walk and she was enchanted with the world around her. Much to Rosalie's dismay, Esperanza was always covered in little scratches on her hands and knees because even though she'd just started walking, in her mind, she could fly and the clumsiness of her still babyish coordination caused her to bump into everything like a pinball.

Each time she'd fall though… She'd get back up full of determination.

She took after her parents in this way.

Now, her little chin wrinkled and trembled as she looked up to me with wide brown eyes.

"Aw, you're okay, Perry!" I told her as I knelt to scoop her up from the floor, kissing her little hands to make it all better.

Immediately the threat of tears in her eyes disappeared.

"Don't let Rosalie hear you call her that, Bells." Emmett chuckled with my own nickname, struggling to keep up with the eternal wandering of his strong willed child as he joined us on the front porch.

"It's our little secret isn't it, Perry?" I kissed Esperanza's soft, perfect baby cheeks.

These days I wasn't nearly as afraid of Rosalie as I had once been.

I knew Rosalie preferred the use of her full name, not a nickname, though no one but Rosalie and Emmett really used it. She was Perry to _everyone._ I'd once caught Emmett's own mother even calling her Perry.

Perry used her scraped up little hands to pull her pacifier out and a wide, dimpled smile spread across her little face that made her look just like her father, especially now that she'd helped him find his own smile again.

After she gave me an adorably wet kiss on the lips, she stuck her pacifier back in her mouth then reached desperately for her favorite person in the world, her father.

Emmett stood tall, taller than he ever had and it made me shiver to think about what he'd gone through to get here - how hard he'd fought, and how hard he was still fighting.

But, the way he looked at that little girl that was reaching for him now made it evident he knew it was worth it.

Doctors hadn't been able to explain what happened, but for all intents and purposes Emmett was _okay_. We all knew he'd sworn to be, and when he set his mind to something, it was set in stone.

He took his medication like he was supposed to, went to physical therapy, participated in a support group, and did everything _right_ because he had a million new reasons to do so. And those reasons started and ended with his two favorite girls.

Now, Emmett was speaking, reading, and writing in French, Spanish, English, and some basic Italian and some piece of him at one time had learned how to play the guitar because now he played often and beautifully. He'd said his father had taught him when he was very young, but they had to give the guitar away in exchange for a crib for Maria once back in Cuba. He hadn't touched a guitar since he was eight.

But the most exhilarating and poetic milestone was that he stood beside Rosalie for the first time since his accident on the day their daughter was born.

July the 4th. Independence Day.

Esperanza had entered this world exactly on cue, and it was the most beautiful summer day. Everything had gone right. Rosalie had the baby at sunrise, and that day had looked like a painting of heaven. The sunrise was colorfully orange and pink and there was a morning breeze of refreshing change in the air.

Songbirds had sung a chorus in the sky, and the entire universe seemed to put on its best for the arrival of Esperanza.

Fireworks for Independence Day had lit up the sky that evening, but Esperanza slept pleasantly through the night as all of us poured into the hospital to adore her.

She was beyond adored. She was worshipped. She was loved.

As much as Rosalie had needed Esperanza, Emmett had needed her double. Esperanza saved him in so many ways. She picked him up during the darkest time of his life.

He needed an angel, and an angel she was…

She was such an easy, happy baby. She barely cried. She was easy to please. She laughed often.

Emmett took Esperanza into his own arms as he kissed me on the cheek, hugging tight to me with his free arm.

"I'm so glad you're here. It means so much to Rose and I." Emmett told me with deep sincerity.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it." I reveled in his embrace and the familiar smell of his cologne, but mostly I just reveled in the fact I was hugging _him_.

None of us ever imagined we'd see Emmett again after his accident, and I had just started to get to know him when he and his life had been that drastically altered.

Now, it was like meeting him all over again. Becoming a father had been the best thing to ever happen to his identity, and now he expressed it vibrantly. Everyone was invited to know him and to love him; there were no parts of him left shadowed. All had been brought to light.

I let him kiss both my cheeks again and I smiled.

"You're growing too fast little bean!" He beamed at the sight of Clarke, showering her with attention and affection as she giggled happily.

Everyone loved him, and _everyone_ noticed he'd come back into himself. He was magnetic. He was warm. He was like sunshine.

The little girl in Emmett's arms was most definitely Rosalie's daughter and it wasn't just because of their shared blonde hair and strikingly beautiful perfection.

Esperanza was jealous of Emmett's attention and whined with yearning for her own kiss as she removed her pacifier, waiting.

I recognized that pout and laughed.

Emmett kissed her perfect little cupid's bow lips of course, giving in to his little princess's every want, and with satisfaction she popped her pacifier back in and laid her little head of little blonde curls adorned in a big white bonnet on his chest.

Emmett protectively adjusted the bonnet so the edge shaded her big brown eyes from the summer sun.

"She looks just like Rosalie when she pouts." Edward teased, clapping Emmett on the shoulder.

Emmett's dimples showed as he looked down at his little girl. She grinned back up at him, dropping the pacifier from her mouth.

" _Yes._ She does." He faux-groaned, bending down with her to pick up the pacifier she'd dropped onto the porch.

"Let me…" I started, but Emmett already had it.

All of us tried not to watch him do this simple task like it was miraculous, but it still was. He stood back to his full height with me, knowing what I was thinking.

He gave me a little smile.

Esperanza reached for her pacifier, pouting her bottom lip out again and looking so much like Rosalie it was scary even though Rosalie wasn't doing much pouting these days. She was radiant with joy, and had been for quite some time.

It was evident their little girl didn't have to pout much though either.

"Will you _wait_ a second your majesty?" He teasingly asked her in exasperation as he put the pacifier in his own mouth to clean it, but this sight made her laugh freely and fully.

It was a contagious laugh just like her father's and all of us had to smile, totally charmed by her.

Her big brown eyes sparkled in a perfect copy and paste of Emmett's life-filled brown eyes.

Both their dimples showed as a frame to their thousand watt smiles.

In this moment of unbridled joy, she looked just like her father.

Esperanza already had him wrapped around her little baby fingers, and as he offered it back, she popped her pacifier in her mouth with satisfaction.

"Come in. Please." Emmett stepped aside with welcoming in his voice and eyes.

I kissed my own daughter's sweet fingers, then took Edward's free hand as we followed Emmett in through the custom French front doors.

My eyes could barely believe this was real. Emmett and Rosalie lived in a real. life. _house_.

Not an apartment. Not a loft. Not a penthouse.

The eternal city-slickers lived in a _house_ in the woods of _Greenwich_ , _Connecticut_.

Even more than the fact they lived in a house was the grandeur of the house they lived in. It was built in 1927, but looked like a 16th century English Abbey. It had vaulted ceilings that seemed to stretch to heaven and stained glass windows that made the light spilling in the room a somewhat spiritual experience.

The unique English oak linen-fold panel walls caught my eye and paired with the stone floors and the rest of it, I was certain their house was a cathedral.

It certainly felt like it right now.

The fragrant smell of fresh flowers filled the air and I inhaled deeply.

White roses perfumed the room and children played around me in an idyllic scene of innocence. Some of the children running around I recognized as Emmett's nieces Camila and Valentina along with Alice and Jasper's crew of children.

Three children I had no idea who they were, but I watched a woman with the same raven black hair and olive skin as Emmett scoop one of them up.

I imagined it was Emmett's friend Pilar's kids.

Emmett spoke to Esperanza in Spanish and kissed her as she grinned.

"You made it!" Robert Hale approached with a glass of champagne already in his hand, but his eyes sparkled more than his bubbles as he sat down his glass and reached for his granddaughters.

At the sight of me, he beamed and kissed me on the cheek, but nothing was compared to the way he looked at his grandchildren.

His love poured out of his eyes and radiated in his voice as he spoke to the two of them with adoration. He took Clarke in one arm and Perry in the other happily.

He seemed complete.

Clarke's hair had turned fiery red, far more vibrant than the bronze color of Edward's and even though I'd tried to fasten her wild hair in a big bow for the special occasion, it was a wild mane of hair like mine so it protested in spurts out of its ribbons.

I tried once again to tame her hair now that Robert had her, smoothing back her curls as she whined.

"Oh, she's fine. She looks beautiful." Robert assured me with a grin in her direction.

With his arms empty, Edward reached for me to wind an arm around my shoulders, but Alice took my hand, tugging on it.

"Come on, Bella." Alice encouraged.

"Where are we going?" I asked though the pixie was already tugging on my arm toward the grand staircase.

"Tell her not to be late." Emmett's eyes followed the staircase with longing and a special light in them that was reserved for Rosalie.

He spoke a little louder so undoubtedly she heard him.

"I don't want to intrude…" I started, but Alice shrugged me off.

After our ascension up the stairs, I noticed the open door near the end of the hallway and a glowing apparition's reflection in a mirror on the edge of my view.

Alice was already heading toward it like a moth to a flame.

She knocked on the door lightly with her knuckles, anticipation seeming to build in her chest.

"You can come in." Rosalie's decadent voice said from the other side of the door.

Alice opened the door then, and the two of us gasped to behold the wonder of Rosalie Hale in all white.

She sat in front of a mirror as Elizabeth added some last minute pearl edged pins to Rosalie's long blonde hair that was in loose curls down to her lower back. The front of her hair was twisted back in a slightly- vintage style to show off her perfect face and pristine bone structure in a way that made her look exquisitely like an angel.

"You look…" I started.

Rosalie turned to face us, her big purple eyes impossibly bright in this moment of excitement.

The sight of her made my knees wobbly.

"Perfect." Alice finished my sentence with tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"Oh, you guys." Rosalie stood from her seat in front of the mirror and floated toward us like a cloud, tossing her long swan's arms around us both.

She hugged tight to us and I smiled pleasantly at the familiar smell of lavender in her hair.

Rosalie was full of energy and it crackled inside her like electricity. I felt it pulsing within her like a bass drum as she pulled away and smiled at me the most brilliant smile I'd ever seen.

It wasn't an overstatement; Rosalie Hale looked _perfect_ in this moment.

"I am _so_ happy for you." Alice squealed, squeezing tight to Rosalie's hands.

Rosalie gave a sincere grin of excitement before she sighed, looking toward the door where her father now stood with the light of her existence.

"Wow." Robert marveled, tears pooling to make his eyes look glassy.

"Dad…" Rosalie protested slightly.

"Custom Dior… Victorian buttons, appliquéd with roses, crystal beading, Mikado-silk…" Robert expanded, noticing Rosalie's dress.

She gave a little twirl with giddy happiness.

Her dress was a work of art, and was elegant, long sleeved, A-lined and seemingly simple aside from the trail of roses appliquéd on the skirt.

But what really just punched me in the gut was how perfect her body was. I swear she had a better body now than she did before the baby. Alice and I complained about this often over junk food and margaritas.

"Esperanza's dress is Dior too." Rosalie commented, her attention being drawn.

"What happened to her hands?" Rosalie noticed the scrapes on Esperanza's palms, turning her hands up and examining the rest of her for bumps or bruises.

"Oh, she just got excited running to see me." I tried to explain.

"I need to clean the cuts." Rosalie sighed, reaching for her daughter, kissing her and letting her eyes dance over her in adoration.

Esperanza tossed her hands around her neck, babbling nonsensically so her pacifier tumbled down, getting caught in Rosalie's skirt.

"Come on you can say it, Ma-ma." Rosalie begged her as she picked up her pacifier not handing it back so it could be used as a bargaining tool.

She reached for some disinfectant and cleaned the pacifier meticulously throughout this exchange.

"Ma-ma." Rosalie repeated.

Esperanza stopped speaking immediately and just giggled with some sort of understanding mischief in her eyes. Obviously she didn't know she was avoiding Rosalie's desire, but it was still funny to imagine she did.

Perry was just around the corner from her first word, and I knew Rosalie and Emmett were in a stiff competition on which one of them would get to claim it. My money was on Emmett, but Rosalie was posing a true competitor as she and Esperanza locked eyes.

I thought she'd say it; it almost looked like she would, then Esperanza shifted gears and her bottom lip trembled and her big brown eyes glistened as she reached for her pacifier with hopeless desperation.

"God, she's so much like Emmett it's exhausting." Rosalie couldn't hide her smirk of amusement as she gave up her bargaining tool, then transferred Esperanza to her hip and started toward the bathroom.

"Let me help you, dear." Elizabeth side-stepped in front of her to grab Esperanza and clean her little hands.

Rosalie wanted to make certain that Elizabeth was thorough and watched over her shoulder as she worked.

It was funny to see the difference in Emmett and Rosalie's parenting in just this short time.

I took Clarke back from Robert now, aching for my own little one. Time moved too quickly. I remember it was just yesterday when Clarke was 11 months old.

I knew Rosalie had been brooding on the passage of time recently as her own baby's first birthday was approaching, but time passed differently for us all. Rosalie had so many other things going on this past year, marking not only the milestones of her first child, but the milestones of her husband's progress after the accident as well.

It was a tough season of life for sure, but Rosalie approached it all with enthusiasm and optimism now.

"Emmett told us to tell you not to be late." Alice said.

Rosalie's cheeks flushed slightly and my stomach fluttered with butterflies _for_ her.

"I won't." She spoke breathily.

"Then we need to get going right about _now,_ sweetheart." Robert grinned at her.

"Really? Already?" Rosalie reached for Esperanza like a security blanket from her nervousness and sat down in front of the mirror once more, turning her face this way and that for a last check-up.

Esperanza was fascinated with the mirror, and clapped her hands at her own reflection.

"Last little touch." Elizabeth produced a long, beautiful veil from where it hung on the door.

Alice clasped her hands together excitedly, as Elizabeth fastened the veil in the back of Rosalie's long blonde hair.

Rosalie smiled at Elizabeth in the mirror now, and Elizabeth kissed her on the cheek with an outpouring of love.

It made my limbs feel light and my heart leap. I knew Rosalie and Elizabeth's relationship was something that Edward had mentioned was what caused the four of them a lot of familial stress. Now… All of that had dissipated and family ties were only getting deeper and more tight knit.

I thought about how important family had always been to me, and how now this was something I always yearned for and now…. Now, I was immersed in it, entangled in it, and absolutely embraced by it.

Since the day I met her, Rosalie and I had come so far. What once was a distant hatred was now a sisterhood.

As close as I was with Rosalie now, I was closer to Emmett. His accident was tragic, there's no other way to put that. However, his recovery from his accident had brought so much to the forefront of my memory about my experience with my brother's brain tumor, so dealing with Emmett in the present had helped me come to terms with my past.

Emmett's accident, while in theory was distant from me had honestly thrown me into a deep depression I couldn't really pinpoint or explain. I honestly didn't know I was depressed until it became extremely prevalent and problematic after Clarke's birth. Alice had always made it clear she was here to talk about postpartum depression, but it didn't feel like that.

Edward had asked me what was wrong one early morning when we were both up with a crying newborn and I just lost it. I'd told him I couldn't process Emmett's accident as something separate from my brother's brain tumor all those years ago.

Edward encouraged me to talk to Emmett about it.

And so I did.

I was nervous when I'd asked Emmett to lunch alone.

Rosalie had looked at me like I'd had three heads when I showed up at their apartment, but eventually agreed. When Emmett was out of the room, she privately gave me a 45 minute lecture on how to take care of him and all the what-ifs and what to do in case of emergency. She made sure I understood every last medication and time table, and exhaustively told me about things to watch out for.

She didn't know this wasn't my first rodeo with a brain patient.

When Emmett and I finally got to lunch, I told Emmett over sundaes that sometimes I couldn't look at him, sometimes he terrified me, sometimes I hated him and resented him even though I knew he wasn't really my brother. He was someone else entirely.

Emmett had listened to me, and loved me through it all. We'd talked. He'd listened. I listened. We had a very special, very different relationship now. And even though he wasn't my physical blood brother, he had become my brother in every other way that it counted.

One day soon, it would be official.

I fiddled with the engagement ring recently added to my left hand. Edward and I would be the ones getting married soon.

But today was all about Emmett and Rosalie's second wedding. This wedding was everything and then some that you could imagine. It was perfect. I didn't understand much about the whirlwind of their first wedding, no one really did, but this was the wedding they were always supposed to have and I knew it meant a lot to the both of them.

The air smelled like flowers and the summer breeze made the day seem to breathe along with me.

Alice and I scampered down the stairs, finding our seats in Emmett and Rosalie's garden. It was a _perfect_ day.

There had been a random cold front in the middle of June that brought a breeze and perfect weather that reminded everyone of that odd perfect day on July 4, last year, the day Esperanza was born.

The air seemed to pulsate with energy and happiness. The chairs filled, but the wedding was small, with only those closest to Emmett and Rosalie invited. We were under a shade, and I heard birds chirping everywhere over the artistry of a single cellist. Flowers of their garden were in perfect bloom, providing a colorful constellation of petals.

We all stood, and my stomach dropped with excitement as I looked for Rosalie coming down the aisle. Instead of a bouquet of flowers, Rosalie held her beautiful daughter on her hip.

I stood on my tip toes to look over Edward's shoulder and Jasper's head to see Emmett's face as he watched them come toward him.

I couldn't help but feel my eyes get glassy with happy tears.

The look on his face would be burned into my memory, and I liked to imagine what Edward's face would look like when we got married and I was walking toward him at the end of the aisle.

Esperanza's big white bonnet matched Rosalie's veil and the two of them were so beautiful it took my breath away.

At the end of the aisle, Perry reached for Emmett and he took her, shifting so he could wrap an arm around Rosalie too.

They had a private conversation, whispering to only one another as the officiant began. Rosalie stayed curled into his free side.

The wedding was perfect, and not a single person had dry eyes as they read the vows they wrote for one another and to their shared child.

I was glad Alice had insisted that I put on waterproof mascara today.

After the ceremony, in true Rosalie and Emmett fashion, there was a wild, lavish party.

I was thrown back to what seemed like an eternity ago at their Halloween party.

There was champagne, wine, laughter, and lots of misbehaving.

Rosalie was dancing on tables and Emmett was chasing her. You'd swear parenthood hadn't slowed them down one bit. They didn't even look tired.

Edward and I hadn't slept since Clarke was born. I don't remember what it was like to not be tired.

I yawned before I popped a little tea cake into my mouth to hopefully get a little sugar rush.

Rosalie squealed with laughter as she dove into Emmett's arms, so he swung her around and cradled her.

"Are you okay?" They asked each other in unison as he set her down on her feet and she remembered that this time last year he was learning how to walk again.

She'd dove into his arms without thinking and he'd tripped her without thinking, grabbing onto her hips and making her jump.

They kissed instead of answering.

"Where's our baby?" Rosalie was breathing heavily after all that dancing and that kiss Emmett had laid on her.

Her cheeks were flushed scarlet as her big purple eyes scanned the floor in concern.

I nodded toward where Emmett's mother had Esperanza in her lap.

Rosalie sighed happily, relaxing.

"Congrats again you lovebirds. We didn't get invited the first time." Jasper teased.

"You were out of town visiting your family if I recall." Emmett responded.

"That's right. You called me like what, twenty minutes before the ceremony and asked me what I was doing later?" Jasper elbowed him.

"No, I called you the day before I swear."

"No… No you didn't." Jasper insisted.

"He did." Alice defended him.

"Oh!" Emmett threw his hands up.

This is where life was obviously different because Jasper was quick and could instigate a wrestling match and have the advantage, but now Jasper was scared even to touch Emmett.

So instead, this gave Emmett the advantage and he tackled Jasper.

"Em, please." Rosalie rolled her eyes half in concern for his health and half in teasing.

After he was satisfied with messing with Jasper, they let go of each other.

"Life is good, you guys." Jasper sighed smoothing his suit once he was out of Emmett's grip, taking a glass of champagne off the tray.

We all took one, _but Rosalie_.

I exchanged a glance with Edward, and soon I noticed that Alice and Jasper were sharing their own private glance. We weren't the only ones.

The most telling glance though was the one between Emmett and Rosalie.

We all remained silent, waiting, anticipating.

But there was not a peep from the two of them.

Emmett's dimples showed though, and Rosalie's skin seemed to glow.

"There's _no_ way." Edward postulated.

Emmett took Rosalie's hand.

"We have something to tell you." Rosalie bit her lip.

"Nuh-uh. No way." Jasper shook his head.

Emmett narrowed his eyes.

"The baby's due in September." Rosalie announced to us.

"WHAT?" I couldn't believe how far along she was when she'd just had Perry. "How?!…"

"Well, Bella when two people love each other very much…" Emmett began in teasing.

Rosalie blushed.

"Shut up. I hate you." I shoved his shoulder, blushing wildly.

"Is that safe?" Edward asked.

"The doctors say he's fine." Rosalie grinned, cradling her stomach that didn't show at all.

Rosalie's concern and protectiveness showed in her lioness gaze down at her little growing baby.

"It's a boy?!" Alice's eyes widened.

Rosalie nodded, and Emmett kissed her cheek victoriously.

"I didn't think you _could_ … That fast." Edward raised an eyebrow still not totally convinced.

" _Apparently_ you can." Rosalie looked at Emmett.

He shrugged, guiltily.

"We were just practicing. We didn't mean to." Emmett winked.

"I mean obviously not." Rosalie rolled her eyes. "But, Emmett's dad thinks it's hilarious because Emmett took his Irish name you know… So… Irish twins?…"

Rosalie was amused by this too, and we couldn't help but laugh.

No one had noticed that Alice had burst into tears until she sniffled.

"Alice…" Rosalie's eyes widened in concern.

"I'm just… so _happy_." She squealed.

Rosalie hugged tight to her and then opened her arm so the three of us could be

"Look at us." Rosalie inhaled, kissing my cheek and then Alice's.

"Just a couple years ago, we were just a bunch of strangers just doing what we could. Now… we're _thriving_."

"Thriving." I exhaled happily, looking over at Edward and seeing the future stretch out in front of us.


End file.
